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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27579941">I Wasn't Prepared for You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mortenavida/pseuds/mortenavida'>mortenavida</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alley Blow Jobs, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Black Mirror Episode: s03e04 San Junipero, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Artist Steve Rogers, BUT ONLY ONCE, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Couch Sex, Episode: s03e04 San Junipero, First Dates, First Time Blow Jobs, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, Inspired by Black Mirror, M/M, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Nobody knows Steve is Captain America, Recreational Drug Use, Secret Identity, Semi-Public Sex, Virtual Reality, Wall Sex, nobody knows tony is iron man</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 04:00:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>25,300</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27579941</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mortenavida/pseuds/mortenavida</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>San Junipero -- a virtual world created to allow people to experience previous decades as well as a “heaven” of sorts for those who have passed. For Steve, it was a way to learn about the decades he slept through. However, when he keeps meeting a man named Tony, it becomes far more than just a research opportunity. It becomes a place he can be himself as long as Tony never finds out who he is.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Steve Rogers/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>138</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Marvel Reverse Big Bang 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. 1980</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eimeh/gifts">Eimeh</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Massive thanks to my artist <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eimeh/pseuds/Eimeh">shimizuaimee</a> for having this idea of the boys in San Junipero -- I've always wanted to write an AU of this and I'm so happy I have this opportunity. </p><p>Also HUGE thanks to my beta <a href="https://fiftyshadesofstony.tumblr.com/">fiftyshadesofstony</a> for cheering me on and correcting my dumb mistakes. </p><p>Inspired by <i>Black Mirror</i>’s “San Junipero” (s03 e04). As I went through the decades, I found different music and (sometimes) drinks for our boys to try. Links to both the playlists and recipes are in the endnotes for each chapter. Also, each chapter varies wildly in length depending on what happens because each chapter is a different decade.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>
    
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The last thing Steve Rogers expected to come across in paradise was rain. Looking at it from underneath the overhang of some nondescript hotel all the Tourists start out from, the last thing Steve wanted to do was actually step out into the street and feel it. Would he feel it? The breeze drifting through the buildings came off as cool, so did that mean rain would be the same?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he were completely honest, Steve didn’t ask too many questions about San Junipero before entering it. All he saw was an opportunity to experience past decades he had missed, seeing what they had to offer. An hour a week he didn’t need to worry about the rules and nuances of the real world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paradise, so far, really sucked. He let out a breath and adjusted his jacket before stepping into the wet streets where he not only felt the rain, but it soaked through to his skin. He wasn’t sure where exactly to go now that he was here, somewhere in the ’80s, but he didn’t want to just parade around in the slight downpour. A bright, neon light across the street caught his attention -- a gaudy pink and blue thing with the name “Tucker’s” in the middle of two palm trees. Anything with a sign that ridiculous couldn’t be so bad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve picked up the pace and ducked under the building’s overhang, realizing only then that it was a bar. An unrecognizable song blared out from behind the windows, clearly heard despite him being outside. Never in his life did he expect to be walking through the doors of a place like this and, for only a moment, he debated on moving on and finding somewhere else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The music faded out to a faint Celtic-fiddle that made Steve smile and open the door. He stepped inside to the beat of the drums, humming the tune to himself. “Come On Eileen” had been something Clint showed to him, teasing about his Irish roots. It was the first song he heard from this decade and it had fast become his favorite. If his mother were alive, he could see her attempting to sing out the lyrics -- off-key since she never could hold a tune.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The inside of the place seemed to be divided into two sections -- the main dance floor and bar, and a separate area with arcade machines. He knew how to handle console controllers as they were abundant these days, but there was something about an arcade cabinet that always called to him. He just never really had the time to veer off from whatever he was doing to try them out in the old-school arcades in New York City. With a smile, he made his way toward </span>
  <em>
    <span>Asteroids</span>
  </em>
  <span>, curious to see if he had any skill with the game.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As with everything else in San Junipero, the games were free. He looked over the buttons before letting a smile cross his face. Soon enough, he was engrossed in the game, finger tapping rapidly against the fire button as he dodged around the screen. He felt a presence lean on the machine next to him, but he ignored it for now, too engrossed in what he was doing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he lost his last life, score barely making the top ten, he let out a sigh and stepped away from the arcade cabinet. The sound of clapping caught his attention and his head jerked to the presence he had previously ignored. A man stood there, lips twitched in an amused smirk framed by an anchor beard and thin mustache. There was a spark in his brown eyes that Steve’s stomach did a little flip at -- the man was attractive and just Steve’s type.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A hundred responses to the applause went through Steve’s mind, but the only word he could form was a lame, “Hey.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The smirk turned into a genuine smile as the man crossed his arms over his chest. “Hey, yourself. Play often?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I used to.” Steve’s shoulders hunched as he stuck his hands in the front pocket of his jeans. “Haven’t seen something like this in a while.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s because they’re usually stuck in retro bars now.” He motioned toward the bar. “Can I buy you a drink?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve looked around, a frown on his face. “You need money for that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Figuratively, smartass.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man arched an eyebrow. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve hoped his cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. He turned his gaze to his feet, scuffing his shoes on the floor. “My name is Steve, not ‘smartass’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That drew a sharp laugh. A soft hand eased against his back and the man leaned closer, chest pressing lightly against Steve’s arm. “Find us a table, Steve, and I’ll get us some drinks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Steve could argue against it, the man had already disappeared into the crowd. Holding back a sigh, Steve figured it couldn’t hurt to sit down for a bit. If the man returned with a drink, he could always refuse it and see where the conversation went. Probably not far -- Steve didn’t have all that much faith in his small-talk abilities.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He found a table near one of the windows and settled into the squeaky booth. A real bar would probably have way too much alcohol spilled on its tables, but not here. Nothing was ever out of place, broken, or dirty in San Junipero. Steve ran his fingers over the smooth gloss of the table, almost wishing for </span>
  <em>
    <span>some</span>
  </em>
  <span> kind of imperfection.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It would make staying here easier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His thoughts thankfully didn’t have too much time to wander. The man found him soon enough and put a glass of amber liquid in front of him. Steve didn’t reach for it, choosing instead to watch him settle in the booth. The easy smile stayed on the man’s face and Steve couldn’t help but stare at his lips, wondering what they tasted like.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thought you’d book it out of here,” the man said before leaning back, resting an arm across the empty seat beside him. “Glad you stayed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, ah... I don’t actually drink.” Steve pushed the glass toward the center of the table between them. “I should have said...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More for me.” The man raised his glass in Steve’s direction before taking a long drink. Steve couldn’t keep his eyes off the bobbing of his Adam’s apple.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Small talk. He could do this. “What’s your name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man arched an eyebrow, his half-empty glass slowly lowering to the table. “You don’t know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should I know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Most do,” he said with a shrug. “It’s Tony.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve wasn’t sure he should recognize the name (Tony wasn’t exactly a unique name), so he smiled in return. “Tony. Short, simple, Tony.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, now,” Tony interjected, pointing his glass toward Steve. “Are you calling me short?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re shorter than I am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony scoffed and Steve’s smile grew wider. Small talk, so far, was going great. Tony had yet to leave out of boredom and Steve was actually enjoying himself. When Tony reached forward to push the glass of alcohol back toward Steve, he took only a moment of thought before deciding that it didn’t matter. He brought the glass to his lips, taking in the deep, sharp woodsy scent masking the sting of alcohol.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, no toast?” Tony asked before Steve could take a sip. “Come on, we have to toast to something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve lowered his glass. “I don’t know what I would toast to,” he admitted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s the first thing that crosses your mind?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Several things crossed Steve’s mind, but none of them were appropriate to say in public (but all of them included what he maybe wanted to do to the man sitting across from him). He licked his lips, getting his mind straight, before saying the first thing -- not about Tony -- that came to his mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“History.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony arched an eyebrow. “History?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Steve said, faking confidence in his answer. He stretched out his arm, glass halfway across the table. “To history.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony </span>
  <em>
    <span>clicked</span>
  </em>
  <span> their glasses together and said instead, “To the future.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The burn of scotch down his throat never came, making Steve wonder if </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> could get drunk here. If not, it made sense that the drinks were free-flowing and nobody around them seemed to be pacing themselves -- even Tony. He waved toward the bar after putting his glass down and it didn’t take much longer after for a woman to come by with a tray.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A large, black bow held back her mess of curls, though one of her earrings tangled in a bit that dangled too low. Steve eyed the multiple necklaces, wondering how this could have ever come in fashion. Her bright-red lipstick contrasted with the darker colors she wore -- whether the outfit was black or just a dark blue, Steve couldn’t be sure in this light. She smiled before walking away, leaving Steve to wonder why anyone would enter a club-type setting with tight leather pants and a jacket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had, of course, worn a thin jacket himself. But he also never expected to find himself in a bar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like her look?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony’s question drew Steve’s thoughts back to his table partner. “Pardon?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nodded toward the woman. “Her, do you like her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve reached toward the new glass of alcohol left for him. He had never admitted to anyone out loud what his actual preferences were and part of him would probably always be afraid to do so. Still, San Junipero was full of all sorts of people and it didn’t matter who they wanted to sleep with or how old they were, so maybe...?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not exactly... interested in women,” he said, focusing on his hands so he wouldn’t see any look of disgust Tony might have. “I don’t think I ever was, actually.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony let out a laugh, leaning forward to lean his arms on the table. “Must be my lucky day, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why is that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because most straight guys run away when I openly flirt with them. At least now I have a chance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A blush rose in Steve’s cheeks and he took another drink instead of responding. His initial reaction was to immediately tell Tony the flirting was unwelcome, but was it really? Nobody has looked at Steve and saw </span>
  <em>
    <span>Steve</span>
  </em>
  <span> -- they just saw the uniform he wore or the title he bore. Tony didn’t know either of those.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could do this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve put his half-finished drink on the table and looked up at Tony through his lashes. “You really think you have a chance?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sassing me, Steve?” Tony leaned closer, body halfway over the table now. “Not sure you should be doing that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happens if I do?” He was genuinely curious, a tightness in his chest coming more from nerves than fear. Despite living with his own set of muscles for a while now, Steve still saw himself as a skinny kid from Brooklyn. Someone nobody looked twice at.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Tony’s smile, the light of his hazel eyes, told Steve that the man </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted</span>
  </em>
  <span> to look at him -- do more than look at him. Tension grew between them and, despite the situation not reaching toward anything too sexual yet, Steve felt his cock grow a bit in his pants. All from the look Tony gave him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We might find ourselves at my place,” Tony said, voice husky. “I’ve got a comfortable bed and privacy so you can lose some of those clothes you’re wearing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve knew his face turned red at that point. He hadn’t been a virgin since the war, but something about Tony made him feel like one. He shifted in his seat, trying to find a topic he could switch to. Anything other than the fact that part of him (most of him) wanted exactly what Tony had described.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice, ah... nice weather. Is it always like this?” The question sounded stupid and Steve wasn’t sure why he had asked about the </span>
  <em>
    <span>weather</span>
  </em>
  <span> of all things. When he managed to finally look back up at Tony, the man’s smile had been replaced with confusion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want to talk about the weather?” he asked, slowly leaning back in his chair. “Well, shit. Did I strike out that badly?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Steve insisted faster than he meant to. “No, I just.” He downed the rest of his glass, trying to give himself some kind of courage. “I’m not used to people wanting me like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bullshit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve blinked up at Tony. “I--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steve, you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>gorgeous</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You’re really going to tell me people don’t want you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve found himself smiling, just a bit. “Mostly they want me for what I can do.” A smirk on Tony’s face had Steve stumbling over his words as he realized what he implied. “Out-outside of the bedroom. In the field. I mean, not like that. Nothing... nothing </span>
  <em>
    <span>sexual</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony ran a hand over his chin, his smile becoming more genuine. “That I can understand. They look at you like a piece of meat rather than the man you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly,” Steve agreed. “Exactly, so I... I’m out of practice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to practice?” Tony asked. When Steve didn’t answer, he leaned over the table, face moving closer to Steve’s own. “We can practice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve had the sudden, ridiculous urge to close the distance and kiss him -- public displays of affection be damned. He wanted to see just how those lips felt against his own; his breath came out faster as he flicked his gaze between Tony’s amused eyes and his lips. Could he do a one-night stand? Could he let Tony take him home and get him naked?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes, yes he could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony, I--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A loud commotion full of happy screams and cheers from the front door interrupted Steve and the two of them looked over to see what was going on. Two women donned in wedding dresses had entered the bar, yelling about some kind of anniversary. The patrons around them cheered as the shorter black woman pulled her taller, paler wife into a kiss. Across from him, Tony clapped politely before giving his own whistle toward them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s going on?” Did people get married here? He thought anything that happened in this world wasn’t valid outside of it, but he could have been wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you come here often enough, you’ll get to know them,” Tony said. He pointed toward the shorter one. “That’s Kelly. We met once upon a time, had some fun, and went our separate ways.” He pointed toward the taller one. “That’s Yorkie. Nobody knows how she managed to get Kelly as her own, but everybody comes up with their own story. They don’t bother correcting anyone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s your story for them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony watched as the two women crossed arms and tried to each drink a glass of white wine, laughing as most of it spilled. “I think Kelly wanted someone to see past her and Yorkie did that. Saw her for </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And they lived happily ever after?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony’s smile was wistful when he turned back to face Steve. “Yeah, and they lived happily ever after here in San Junipero.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh... Residents?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Residents,” Tony confirmed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Residents had already passed on in the real world, forever living inside San Junipero in an elaborate form of Heaven. Free to go to any decade they wanted. At first, the idea of that had some merit to Steve -- who wouldn’t want to be able to explore the vastness of history? But the longer he thought about it, the more he wasn’t sure. You were bound to get bored eventually, right? Tired of waking up to perfection. No wars or disagreements or conflicts of any kind. San Junipero provided many things, but weapons weren’t on that list.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long ago did they get married?” he asked, getting his mind off of something he could never have anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not sure, actually. Kelly and I were about five years ago, so shorter than that, I guess.” Tony shook his head. “Anyway, back to </span>
  <em>
    <span>us</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve tensed uncomfortably. The urge to kiss Tony had left and, in its place, was nerves. What had he been thinking? “What about us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony’s hazel eyes bore into his own as he leaned across the table. “Why don’t we see if there’s something to us,” he said, fingers trailing across the back of Steve’s hand he had rested on the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shivers rolled down Steve’s back and he pulled his hand away. He couldn’t do this. “I have to go,” he said, standing so fast his chair knocked back. “Thank you for the drink, but I... I have to go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony said something, but Steve tuned it out as he disappeared back into the crowd. He was here to see history, not to flirt with attractive men. Not sure if he was upset at himself or the situation he found himself in, Steve pushed past a forming conga line so he could get out of the bar and back into the pouring rain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted to go home; he’d had enough of San Junipero for now.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Did you spot Kelly and Yorkie? I couldn't leave them out! No 80's playlist for this chapter since I wrote it while re-watching the episode basically.</p><p>Updates will come every three days, so look for the next one on the 18th!</p><p>(I made the temporary banner - I promise that my artist is 10000% better than that nonsense XD)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. 1960</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The woman who guided Steve to San Junipero let him know about the lesser-known public beach on the outskirts of town. Steve wasn’t one for swimming, but she assured him that it was where most of history could be seen. It couldn’t hurt to try, so he dressed himself in the provided blue lastex trunks with matching pullover. It felt a little indecent to be wearing, but it wasn’t as if anyone in his current life would see him like this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hopefully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were a few groups of people scattered over the sandy beach, either surrounding a guitar or a bonfire (or both). Steve stayed up on the pier to watch them, glad to have the gentle warmth of the sun against his neck. You couldn’t burn in San Junipero, thankfully. That didn’t stop some people from rubbing oil or sunscreen into someone’s back, turning the act from helpful to sexual faster than expected. Though considering there were no children in San Junipero, Steve should have guessed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A new group of men ran past, laughing and hollering at one another as they got closer to the water. Each had a surfboard under their arms that they jumped on top of as soon as they got deep enough in the water. Steve watched them for longer than he cared to admit. Most of them were good in the waves, but there were a few that still managed to fall seconds after they stood. Not that he was judging -- Steve didn’t even know how to surf.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well look who it is,” said a familiar voice behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve jerked off the railing of the pier, turning to focus on the man who could only be Tony. He still had a well-trimmed beard, but his hair was longer -- fluffier almost -- and moved easily with the gentle breeze. His smile, though, his smile still made Steve’s stomach twist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” he said, feeling more than a bit lame.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fancy meeting you here.” Tony let his eyes roam over Steve’s body. “I thought I looked good in lastex, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>damn</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve shifted, cheeks heating under Tony’s appreciative gaze. “I could... I could say the same.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony grinned and looked down at his own outfit. Red lastex trunks with a yellow stripe up the side and a matching pullover. When Tony caught him looking, he spread his arms out and turned slowly, letting Steve get a good look at how well the trunks cupped his ass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grabbed the towel over his shoulder so he could hold it a bit in front of him and hopefully hide the fact that his cock definitely reacted to how </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tony looked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you come here to surf?” Steve asked, letting his back lean against the railing. “Swim?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Little bit of everything.” Tony stood next to him, watching the beach behind Steve. “When night falls, that’s when the real party starts. I wanted to get here early.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Real party?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony gave him a look. “Yeah, you don’t know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m still new here,” Steve reminded him. “I’m only able to come here once a week because of my job.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That sucks, but I get it. My times are sporadic.” Tony pointed toward one of the bonfires and Steve turned to look at it. “That group is here every week and only in the ’60s because they say it fits their choice of drugs. I’ve stopped telling them they’re a decade too early and just join them sometimes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve wasn’t a stranger to casual drug use, but only behind closed doors. This sort of public defiance was still too new, but... “At least they’re doing it here where it’s safer, right? Are the effects the same?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Depends on your settings, honestly, but there’s usually one sober person around just in case.” Tony leaned back, hands still on the railing as he stretched. “Want to go?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was the last place Steve really wanted to go, but he couldn’t find it in himself to say no. He came here to learn about history, so why would he turn away from it now? He let himself relax and gave Tony a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony’s smile in return was worth the agreement. The shorter man took Steve’s hand and led him off the pier, toward the bonfire. Steve could hear the gentle strumming of the guitar from here as someone sang “Here Come the Sun.” Next to him, Tony hummed along to the tune while weaving them through seated people. Steve really didn’t care where Tony brought him; the warmth of his hand was something Steve wanted more of.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stopped by another group before Tony pulled Steve to sit in the sand. A few people gave Tony a warm welcome before going back to their own conversation, but it didn’t take long for one of them to lean over and hand Tony what looked like a rolled cigarette. Tony thanked them before gently moving Steve’s legs apart so he could settle himself between them, his back up against Steve’s chest. Steve automatically wrapped a hand around Tony’s waist to steady them as his other leaned back in the sand to keep him sitting up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony took a long drag before slowly blowing the smoke in the air. “Is it weird I just like the taste?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of cigarettes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A laugh escaped Tony before he shook his head. “It’s weed, not a cigarette.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Steve shrugged. “Then I guess it isn’t weird. It’s what you like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are full of non-judgment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve smiled, watching as Tony took another drag. “I don’t see the point of judging someone about personal preferences.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Except pedophilia,” Tony said, holding the joint up toward Steve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Except that,” Steve agreed and leaned in a bit to take a small drag to try.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve wasn’t sure what he expected, but an earthy flavor wasn’t it. It partly tasted like he had smoked some kind of spinach mixed with dirt, but also had a deeper bite to it. It wasn’t his favorite flavor, and Steve was glad he wouldn’t also have to feel the effects, but at least he tried it. He shook his head when Tony offered him another.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think that’s more of a </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More for me.” Tony got comfortable against Steve’s chest, legs stretched in front of them, and continued to smoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The guitar changed tunes and a few people cheered before moving closer to the player. Steve watched as some of them badly danced along to the tune, while others just swayed and sang along. What he didn’t expect was the crowd as a whole to suddenly yell out, “Sweet Caroline. Bum, bum, bum!” He jerked a bit, then frowned as Tony let out a laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a thing,” he said. “I blame the rabid sports fans in Boston, but they do that at baseball games.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are they singing the actual lyrics or something the team made up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Both?” Tony waited a few moments until the crowd again yelled out. “That’s added, the bum, bum, bum. It’s a thing, so just go along with it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve felt a bit silly, but it couldn’t be that odd since the entire beach seemed to be doing it. Tony finished his joint before burying the last bit in the sand. And when the chorus circled back, he tilted his head up and sang along softly. The shouted part of the song passed Steve by -- he was too focused on the small smile playing on Tony’s lips as he murmured out the lyrics. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t sure when he had leaned in and kissed him, but Tony returned it. Their positions were awkward, but that didn’t stop Tony from raising an arm to slide his fingers into Steve’s hair. But as soon as Steve’s mind caught up with what he was doing, he broke the kiss, licking his lips as he stared wide-eyed at Tony.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on.” Tony scrambled out of Steve’s arms and stood before holding a hand out to him. “Come on, I want to take you somewhere.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was obvious Steve had an erection, but Tony didn’t even look at it. So Steve held back his uncertainty and let Tony help him to stand. Fingers laced, Tony brought him out of the crowd and to a nearby building -- some kind of restaurant it looked like. They went past the patrons and into a singular bathroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Steve could ask what was going on, Tony had him pressed against the closed door, kissing him again. Steve’s hands dropped to hold onto Tony’s waist as he lost himself to the kiss, letting Tony lead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this okay?” Tony asked after breaking the kiss. One of his hands slid under Steve’s pullover, fingertips sliding along his abs. “Jesus please say this is okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve knew he </span>
  <em>
    <span>shouldn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> say it was okay. This wasn’t what he came to San Junipero for. This wasn’t in his plans to do no matter where he was and especially in a random bathroom. But he nodded anyway, wanting to see the smile on Tony’s face. When he got it, he felt himself relax against the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony gave Steve one last, quick kiss before dropping to his knees. Steve didn’t have time to be confused before a warm mouth pressed against his dick through the lastex trunks. He sucked in a breath, erection straining against the fabric, as Tony outlined him with his tongue. His hand gripped Tony’s hair as Tony tugged his trunks down, letting them pool at his ankles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Christ, Steve...” Tony looked up at him, licking his lips. “Is this just for me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve blushed, turning his head away. “I...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keep it like this,” he said, wrapping his fingers around Steve’s shaft and stroking it slowly. “I feel like it’s my birthday.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, I know. Put my mouth to better use. Yes, </span>
  <em>
    <span>sir</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Steve could even think of saying anything else, Tony leaned forward and wrapped his lips around his erection. Steve let out a strangled noise, hips jerking forward a bit as Tony took him deeper, tongue running along the underside of his cock. Steve tightened his grip on Tony’s hair, unable to stop the low moan that came out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony began to hum, the vibrations going straight through him, and Steve let his head fall back against the door with a loud </span>
  <em>
    <span>thunk</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It took him a moment to realize Tony was humming the same song the crowd had all yelled along with and he couldn’t help but smile until Tony sucked just enough to make him let out a gasp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Legs shaking and head spinning, Steve knew he wasn’t going to last that much longer. Nights alone with his hand was nothing like this and he felt like a teenager again as he fought off the need to let go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of Tony’s hands came up to fondle his balls, and Steve couldn’t hold on any longer. He tried to give out a warning, but doubted Tony heard it before he was coming down the brunet’s throat. Steve didn’t have time to be embarrassed about it as Tony happily swallowed what he could, a little escaping down his chin after he pulled back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve couldn’t stop staring at him. Hair sticking up from Steve’s grip and a self-satisfied grin as Tony stayed kneeling in front of him. He could get used to this look and that thought scared Steve, but it also excited him; his cock was already half-hard again at the thought of Tony diving back in for more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony noticed and he arched an eyebrow. “Already?” he asked before standing, making sure to press against Steve. “Well, I’ll be damned.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve swallowed around a lump in his throat, the fear not leaving. For the first time, he wanted something for </span>
  <em>
    <span>himself</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and he wasn’t sure he could have it. And as Tony leaned forward to kiss him, Steve panicked and quickly left, leaving Tony alone in the bathroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was a coward.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>
  <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/37i9dQZF1DXaKIA8E7WcJj?si=5cUxLGPsSpSE9BjX4vWsNw">Spotify 1960's Playlist</a>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Clothing ideas came from <a href="https://vintagedancer.com/1960s/1960s-mens-fashion/#:~:text=The%201960s%20men's%20everyday%20look,traditional%20conservative%203%20piece%20suits.&lt;/a">Vintage Dancer</a> -- go have a look at their ridiculous swimsuits!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. 1970</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Steve had been warned ahead of time about Disco, but seeing it first-hand inside Tucker’s was another matter. The colorful, flashing lights of the dancefloor mixed with some of the most ridiculous pants was something he didn’t think anybody could be prepared for. Some of the men dancing around the room had on shoes that made them significantly taller than what they usually would be.</p><p>When given his choice of outfits, Steve had forgone that option and chose instead for a pair of blue jeans and a tight, green muscle shirt. So, honestly, nothing more ridiculous than he wore when relaxing. The red sweater draped and tied around his shoulders seemed a bit unnecessary, but it had gone with the outfit. He also wasn’t a fan of the open-toed sandals and vowed not to head to the beach this time.</p><p>He passed by the game room just to see what was there, chuckling to himself when he saw Pong. A few recruits on base liked to play table tennis and the game reminded Steve of that. He watched a few minutes before moving on.</p><p>Not paying any attention, Steve ran right into someone. He reached out instinctively to make sure the other person didn’t fall -- that was when he realized just who he had run into.</p><p>“Tony?”</p><p>The man in question stared at Steve for a moment before grinning. “Well if it isn’t the dashing dick...”</p><p>Steve flushed, letting his arms drop. “I’m sorry, I--”</p><p>Tony waved Steve’s apology away. “Nope, you just owe me one.”</p><p>Almost immediately, Steve could imagine himself on his knees in that beach bathroom, mouth nipping at Tony’s skin before taking the man in his mouth. He licked his lips, forcing himself to take a step back from the temptation in front of him, but Tony wouldn’t have that. He stepped closer, reaching up to tug at one of the cuffs of Steve’s sweater.</p><p>“Am I really that intimidating?”</p><p>Was he? Steve looked down between them, focusing on the ridiculous flare of Tony’s pants. He let his eyes travel upward, past an obvious bulge below the tight waist. A button-down shirt was somehow tucked in and it didn’t leave much to the imagination on how fit Tony was beneath it. When he got to the open ‘v’ of the shirt, exposing the top of Tony’s chest, Steve couldn’t look away.</p><p>“I’ll take that as a yes,” Tony said, snapping Steve’s attention back up to his face. “If I invite you to my place, are you going to disappear again?”</p><p>The ‘no’ was out of Steve’s mouth before he even really thought about it. Tony took Steve’s hand and guided him out of Tucker’s and into the cool night. Steve could do nothing but stare at their joined hands, wondering if he were crazy for even considering this. Though, San Junipero gave him the only opportunity <em> to </em> do this. A place where nobody knew who he was and they wanted him for him (and his body), and not the titles he held.</p><p>Steve tightened his hand on Tony’s. “You have a place here? I thought you were a tourist.”</p><p>“I am a tourist, but if you’re here often enough and have the right contacts, you can get a place.” Tony turned them down a road.</p><p>Having a place to call home in San Junipero had a tempting draw, but Steve knew that if he had a place here, he would never <em> want </em> to leave. He still had too much to do, too much to experience, to get lost in the haven of the city.</p><p>So for now, he let Tony lead him to a nondescript building. He followed him into an elevator that moved without pressing a button. And when the doors opened to a hallway with a single door, Steve didn’t hesitate to let Tony bring him inside the apartment.</p><p>“This is nice,” he said, though he wasn’t looking at the furnishings.</p><p>Tony grinned again and walked backwards down the hall, never letting go of Steve’s hand. “Wait until we get to the bedroom.”</p><p>If he was doing this, Steve knew he had to be all in. Making his decision, he quickly stopped walking and tugged Tony against him. He couldn’t help but smile at the shocked expression the man had.</p><p>“Does it have to start in the bedroom?” he asked, letting his free hand rest on Tony’s hip. “Or is that a requirement for this?”</p><p>“Hell no, it isn’t a requirement,” Tony said before leaning up on his toes to kiss Steve.</p><p>Moving on instinct, Steve pressed Tony up against the hallway wall, letting the shorter man deepen the kiss as he did so. Steve moved his hand to cup Tony’s ass, fingers kneading it gently and dragging out a moan from him. Tony’s hands made quick work on Steve’s jeans and the kiss broke so Tony could push them off his hips.</p><p>“Less clothes,” he said before working on his own pants. “I definitely need to see you with less clothes.”</p><p>Steve felt a blush steal across his cheeks, but he didn’t stop Tony’s movements. He stepped back enough to finish pushing his jeans to the floor, toeing off his shoes before awkwardly stepping out of the rough fabric. When he straightened again, Tony gripped onto his sweater to pull Steve back into another kiss.</p><p>His cock, still trapped by his plain underwear, was hard as it pressed against Tony’s own underwear-clad erection. He heard himself moan as Tony’s hips shifted, almost rutting against him. Steve slid his hand down Tony’s side to his thigh, pulling at it so Tony’s leg lifted and Steve could thrust against him. Though he hadn’t had much practice, Steve felt as if he knew exactly what to do to please Tony. He moved his other hand to Tony’s other legs and, without much communication on what he wanted, Tony broke the kiss so he could help lift himself up and wrap both legs around Steve’s waist. Steve pressed Tony further against the wall, using it to help (though he really didn’t need it).</p><p>“Oh, <em> fuck </em>, that’s so hot,” Tony murmured before his fingers gripped Steve’s hair and pulled him back in.</p><p>Steve wanted so much, wanted to <em> do </em> so much, but he doubted he could hold both of them up for long. Tightening his hold on Tony’s ass, he pulled away from the wall and made his way down to the only other door there, thankful that it was the bedroom. Figuring he could focus on what it looked like later, he quickly went to the bed and eased them onto it.</p><p>Tony broke the kiss to tilt his head back, gasping as their cocks pressed against another. “Steve... God, <em> please </em>.”</p><p>He couldn’t help the smile that came and Steve gently rolled his hips, pulling a groan from Tony. He found himself wanting to taste every inch of Tony’s skin and, figuring he was allowed, Steve leaned in and ran his tongue over the part where Tony’s neck met his shoulder before giving it a small bite.</p><p>Tony sucked in a breath as soon as he had done so, back arching and his nails digging into Steve’s scalp. Wanting more skin, Steve shifted so he could pull the v of Tony’s shirt lower, letting his mouth explore the exposed skin.</p><p>“Off,” Tony breathed out. “Take it off, <em> Steve </em>.”</p><p>Steve didn’t want to remove himself from Tony, so he reached both hands up and simply ripped the fabric straight down the middle. He missed what Tony said to that, too busy with letting his tongue slide over a nipple before putting it into his mouth.</p><p>Tony’s fingers grabbed at Steve’s shirt, pulling it up until Steve was forced to stop sucking marks into Tony’s chest so it could be pulled over his head. As soon as Tony tossed it to the side, Steve surged up to kiss him again, hips rocking together.</p><p>“I <em> need </em> you to fuck me,” Tony said after breaking their kiss again. “Please, Steve... <em> Please </em>.”</p><p>Steve had never been one to enjoy begging, but something about the way Tony did it made him want to do anything asked. But he hesitated at the request, not wanting to hurt the other man -- could he hurt him while in San Junipero? Was that possible?</p><p>Tony noticed his hesitation and wiggled until he got Steve to roll onto his back. Now straddling him, Tony just grinned and moved down to peel off Steve’s underwear.</p><p>“It’s okay,” he said, voice soft yet still a little breathless. “Let me show you.”</p><p>Steve just nodded as Tony got his own underwear and ripped shirt off. Unable to stop himself, Steve reached out to run a hand down Tony’s abs and down to wrap around the burnett’s cock. It was already slick with precum, though he knew his own wasn’t any better. Above him, Tony let out a long breath before swatting Steve’s hand away and leaning over to open the bedside drawer.</p><p>“San Junipero always provides,” he murmured as he leaned back, tube of lubricant in his hand. “Any point you want to take over, just say so.”</p><p>Steve knew the basics for anal sex and was confident enough he could do a somewhat decent job, but watching as Tony fingered himself was better than anything he could have done. Eyes wide and body shaking he was so hard, Steve could do nothing but squeeze Tony’s legs as the other man opened himself.</p><p>“Can’t wait for these to be your hands,” Tony said, tilting his head back. “I can easily take three, but god you’re so <em> thick </em> . Four... four should be good. Maybe... Fuck I want you inside me <em> now </em>.”</p><p>Steve squeezed his eyes shut, unable to stop his hips from jerking up. Their cocks slid together and Tony let out a low moan, his fingers stopping as he breathed. Steve went to say an apology, but Tony shook his head and continued opening himself up, talking as he did so.</p><p>“I want to feel this when I’m home,” he said. “I want to physically remember what we did here.”</p><p>“Tony...”</p><p>“Shh.” Tony removed his fingers and shifted so he could gently take Steve’s cock in hand. “Just fuck me already.”</p><p>Steve couldn’t look away from Tony as he eased himself down. His cock disappeared into the smaller man’s body, the tightness alone making Steve unable to hold back his groan. Both of Tony’s hands rested on his chest now as he slowly pressed down until Steve was fully inside of him. They stayed there, silent except for the heavy sound of their breathing; Tony’s body shook gently under Steve’s hands.</p><p>“To--”</p><p>Steve’s words were cut off as Tony lifted just a little and let himself fall back down on Steve’s cock, and the silent waiting was broken. Tony used Steve’s chest as an anchor as he took his pleasure, barely letting Steve’s hips move as he rode him. Steve’s fingers tightened on Tony’s thighs before he couldn’t sit still any longer. When Tony pressed down again, Steve reached up to the man’s hips and held him still, ignoring the whine that came from Tony as he did so.</p><p>“I want to...” He wasn’t sure how to finish his sentence, so instead, Steve carefully rolled them so Tony was once again pressed against the bed.</p><p>With a grin, Tony wrapped his legs around Steve’s waist and arched his hips so Steve could get a knee below himself. The angle felt weird until Tony shifted one leg further back to rest on Steve’s shoulder instead. The show of flexibility was something Steve hadn’t expected to be further turned on by, but he couldn’t wait any longer. With one hand on the bed to help stabilize himself and his other helping keep Tony’s leg on his shoulder, Steve thrust against Tony.</p><p>Tony arched his head back, fingernails digging into Steve’s arms. Taking it as a good sign, Steve continued, hips snapping enough that the headboard bounced against the wall. The words falling from Tony’s lips were almost muted and Steve’s mind just assured him they were good as he focused on fucking Tony.</p><p>At one point, he shifted his knee and Tony cried out, back arching as he yelled  a “<em> fuck yes! </em>” Steve tightened his hold and aimed for the same spot. Tony continued all but screaming out his approval as one hand reached back to grip onto the headboard as Steve moved faster.</p><p>He could feel himself getting closer, but Steve wanted Tony to come first. Not that it took too much longer -- a few more thrusts and Tony’s mouth opened in a silent ‘o’ as he came across their stomachs. The extra tightening around his cock pulled a low moan from Steve and, soon enough, his hips stuttered as he released inside Tony, their bodies pressed against each other as much as possible.</p><p>One moment, Steve was pressed against Tony, and the next they were still tangled on the bed next to another. Steve blinked open his eyes, still catching his breath, to see Tony next to him with a wide smile. He shifted his arm, letting Tony’s leg fall back against the bed, and then gently pulled himself out of Tony’s body. Tony let out a soft noise as Steve settled next to him, unsure what to say.</p><p>After a moment, Tony rolled to his side and focused his smile on Steve. He reached up and gently ran a hand through Steve’s hair. “Well, damn...”</p><p>Steve blushed, looking down to Tony’s chest so he didn’t have to focus on the man’s face. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”</p><p>“Good, definitely good.” Tony leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Steve’s forehead. “Better than I ever thought it could be.”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>Tony chuckled before tilting Steve’s chin up for a kiss. “Hell yes. And if this is you unsure, I can’t <em> wait </em> to see you completely confident.”</p><p>Steve blinked, sitting up a little. “You... you want to do this again?”</p><p>“If you’re up for it, I do. I’m not about to say no to fantastic sex.”</p><p>Sex and nothing more. Steve had convinced himself to do this once without something more, but he wasn’t sure if he could do it again. He bit his lip, looking around the room while he gathered his thoughts. If he continued to see Tony, he was sure his feelings would get in the way of anything casual that they could have. No, he was definitely not a casual type of person.</p><p>“Tony, I’m--”</p><p>“Have you ever been dancing?” Tony asked, interrupting Steve’s apology. “I mean, not in places like Tucker’s that I’ve seen you in, but real dancing. My mother always told me a good man took his girl dancing. Not that you're a girl...”</p><p>Confused, Steve looked back at him. “I’m not sure what you mean.”</p><p>Tony moved so he was half over Steve, fingers running through the spunk that was drying on his stomach. “What was it called... Swing dancing?”</p><p>Steve knew all about swing dance, even if he wasn’t sure of the moves. “Not many people really wanted to dance with me...”</p><p>“I find that hard to believe, but let’s do that. I want to take you real dancing next time.”</p><p>“Tony--”</p><p>“Like a date.”</p><p>That had Steve quiet and he looked over Tony’s expression, trying to find the joke or the lie hidden there. Plenty of people in his life had done so already, but when had Tony ever lied to him? He hadn’t so far and something like hope sparked in Steve’s chest. He reached out for Tony’s hand, stopping it on his stomach.</p><p>“I’d like that,” he said, voice soft. “I’m only here during certain times, but it’s usually the same time every week...”</p><p>“Next week, then.” Tony grinned, leaning in. “It’s a date then, Steve. We’re going dancing.”</p><p>Tony sealed the promise with a kiss and Steve felt himself get excited, almost unable to want to wait the whole week. He had a date.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>
  <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/37i9dQZF1DWTJ7xPn4vNaz?si=qYAJQbDFTWOBdSrt2s4KjA">Spotify 70's Playlist</a>
</p><p> </p><p>I promised drink recipes - those are the next chapter, I promise!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. 1920</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Daaaate! :D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Being in San Junipero, no matter the decade Steve decided to visit, always felt the same. It always took a few minutes to get used to the clothes, the sights, the sounds -- everything in the world. The three-piece suit Steve now wore was almost too constricting despite the softness of the actual fabric. Nothing like the actual 1920s, but Steve supposed people liked comfort over accuracy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tucker’s never changed its name even if its atmosphere adjusted. Familiar Jaxx poured through its doors as women ran around in their flapper dresses. The men mingled around them, some in suits like Steve, but others with a simple set of suspenders. He ran a hand down his chest, fingers catching on the chain that held his pocket watch. Maybe he had overdressed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Steve!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a voice Steve didn’t think he’d ever get tired of hearing now. He turned with a soft smile as Tony came up the road. Steve let himself take in the other man’s attire, holding back a snort. Tony’s high-waisted, reddish-brown pants flared out a bit near the feet, almost covering his light-brown shoes. They were held on by red and white striped suspenders over a plain, button-down white dress shirt. A red polka-dot bow tie sat snug against Tony’s neck and a black newsboy cap atop his head. He held a jacket matching his pants over his shoulder and Steve couldn’t help himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He laughed, reaching out to poke at the bowtie. “This is what you picked?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can’t dance as well in the penguin suit,” Tony teased. “You should take some of this off.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I never had the chance to wear something like this,” Steve said, honest. He could have never afforded something this nice before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You look good in it.” Tony ran his hand down Steve’s tie, stopping just as it disappeared into his vest. “But you should still take some of it off.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe you should give me a reason to,” Steve told him, feeling bold.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony gave him a grin in return, using the ‘v’ of his vest to tug him down into a short kiss. “Maybe I will. Dancing first, that later.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A happy tune led by trumpets welcomed them into the bar. Or what </span>
  <em>
    <span>would</span>
  </em>
  <span> be the bar. The usual counter that held more liquor than Steve could know was gone, replaced with a stage for a live band. While the dancing wasn’t exactly the same as in the 20s, the people on the dancefloor were doing their best to wiggle around to the music. Steve found himself smiling, relaxing into the sounds more so than he had in the other decades he visited.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Think we need a drink first,” Tony said, close to his ear so he could be heard. “Always wanted to see what liquor tasted like during prohibition.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve looked around the room. “I don’t see...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Follow me.” Tony laced his fingers with Steve’s, tugging him through the crowd.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The usual place that held the video games was filled with more tables, but it was also only about half the size. Steve arched an eyebrow as Tony led them to a nondescript brown door. It had a closed-off window about eye height and he held back a snort. He hadn’t seen one of those in years.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony knocked on the door and smiled as the window slid open. “Louis Armstrong,” he said and the window snapped shut.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before Steve could ask what happened, the door opened, letting them slip through. “How did you know the password?” Steve asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There isn’t really a password. Just say something and they’ll let you in.” Tony squeezed Steve’s hand, flashing him a smile. “It’s the </span>
  <em>
    <span>experience</span>
  </em>
  <span> of it all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What made you say Louis Armstrong?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because he was the best and I only go with the best.” Tony tugged him up to the bar and draped his jacket across the top.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A bartender came up to them almost immediately, wiping down a glass as he gave them a smile. “What can I get you, gentlemen?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you suggest?” Tony asked, rubbing his beard. “First-timers, here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sweet or not?” the man asked, putting the glass down so he could lean his hands against the bar.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sweet,” Steve said at the same time Tony said, “Not.” They looked at each other and laughed a bit before Tony sat down on the stool. Steve followed his lead, feeling a bit silly about doing this. He had been in a speakeasy before, though it was well after the 18th amendment was repealed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The bartender waited until they had both settled before reaching down to get two cocktail mixers. “Bee’s Knees seems right up your alley,” he said to Steve. “Nice mix of gin with honey and lemon juice. And for you, sir,” he tilted his head, looking Tony over. “The Last Word for you. Gin, lime juice, and Green Chartreuse.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sounds good,” Tony said before turning on his stool to face Steve. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but thank god for prohibition. Do you realize how much it revolutionized the bar scene?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do, actually.” Steve rested his elbow on the counter so he could prop his chin up with his hand. “It was also a lesson about not taking someone’s alcohol.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Got that right.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here you go, gentlemen,” the bartender said as he put two glasses in front of them. He wiped his hands on the apron around his waist. “Anything else?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just this for now,” Tony said. “Cheers, Steve.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cheers,” Steve said, clinking their glasses together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The first sip wasn’t the most pleasant flavor Steve ever had in his mouth. The alcohol was definitely consistent with how they would have had to make it in the 20s -- a sort of watered-down sour bite hidden by the sweetness of the honey and tang of the lemon. Still, it wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>terrible</span>
  </em>
  <span> and the honey lingered pleasantly. He lowered his glass to the counter and watched Tony’s reaction.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The brunet stared at his glass, tilting it back and forth. “I’m so glad I didn’t live in the 20s and 30s,” he finally said before shrugging and taking another sip of it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve rolled his eyes. “They made it work for them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll take my technology and good liquor over secret clubs any day.” Tony finished his drink and turned to rest his back against the bar, both elbows cocked up on it beside him. “Music is nice, though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You did want to take me dancing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony smiled tilting his head toward Steve. “Then finish your illegal drink and let’s get to dancing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Heat pooled low in Steve’s belly as his mind definitely didn’t go in the direction of dancing. Ignoring the flush that spread through him and Tony’s smirk, he quickly finished his drink before sliding off the stool and holding a hand out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“May I have this dance?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony laughed, reaching out to grasp Steve’s hand. “Thought you’d never ask,” he said before pulling Steve into a kiss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stumbled back into the main room, easily disappearing into the dancing crowds. Steve only knew how to do one dance and that was because his best friend’s sister pulled him aside one day to teach him. She claimed he never knew when he’d need it and he sent a silent thanks to her as the music changed to something he could actually dance to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Feeling a bit like a fool, he held his hands out to his side and let them swing a bit as he stepped forward and back, legs swinging as well. Tony watched him for a moment before he arched an eyebrow. Then he just shook his head and followed along and despite neither of them getting the moves exactly right, it was enough like the Charleston that Steve didn’t feel too much like an idiot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony got bored of the repetitive moves, though, and reached out to grab Steve’s hands and pull him into something else. Steve let him lead, focused on keeping his feet moving as Tony spun him through the crowd. It took a moment for Steve to realize he was laughing and he focused his attention on Tony instead of his own feet. He didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be authentic, he just needed to have </span>
  <em>
    <span>fun</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were both laughing by the time the band moved onto another song. Steve’s jacket had been removed at some point during the dance and he didn’t even care where it was. He let Tony pull them outside into the cooler air where they stumbled into the alley by Tucker’s.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony didn’t hesitate to pull Steve against him and Steve went willingly, pressing Tony up against the brick wall as they kissed. One of Tony’s hands gripped his vest while the other curled around the back of his neck, holding Steve in place. But that wasn’t what Steve wanted. He broke the kiss and bit gently at Tony’s chin so the man would raise it a bit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your stupid bowtie,” Steve murmured as he reached up to tug it off with one hand, his other attempting to unbutton Tony’s shirt. Tony just laughed and pulled the suspenders off his shoulders before helping Steve with the buttons of his shirt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve didn’t even think. He dropped to his knees, fumbling with Tony’s trousers. As soon as he got the zipper down, he pulled them and Tony’s underwear to his knees, exposing his erection. Above him, Tony let out a soft noise and Steve smiled at it as he wrapped his hand around Tony’s cock.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Steve...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Tony?” Steve asked as he slowly stroked Tony, looking up at him through his lashes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony swallowed before resting a hand on Steve’s head. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he all but whined out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And really, Steve couldn’t ignore a plea like that. Keeping eye contact with Tony, he pulled the man into his mouth slowly, letting his tongue slide along the underside of his cock. Tony’s eyes eventually fluttered closed and his head tilted back against the wall. Steve moved both hands to Tony’s hips to keep him still as he took his time with what he was doing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve never thought he would be doing something so publicly, even if this were San Junipero and he’d most likely never see these people again. There was a certain thrill of knowing that anyone could stumble out of the same alley door and see them -- that anyone could pass by and spot them from the sidewalk. He flexed his fingers against Tony’s hips, sure he would bruise if injuries like that actually stayed, but that just seemed to make Tony moan above him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m... I’m...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The hand on the top of Steve’s head tightened in his hair. Steve moved fast, one hand moving to play with Tony’s balls before slipping back to run over his hole. That seemed to be too much and Tony cried out, pushing further into Steve’s mouth as he came. Steve swallowed what he could before standing, his own knees a bit shaky.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony didn’t try to move from his position, half propped up on the wall with his breath coming out fast. Steve smiled, wondering what it would be like to have this at home, too. It would probably not be Tony, but...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop looking so smug,” Tony said, though the bite of his words was tempered by the sated smile on his face. “Damn, Steve...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve rested his hand on Tony’s cheek, moving his other arm to rest against the wall above Tony’s head. But before Steve could say anything, Tony leaned a bit to kiss him. Steve was sure he could taste himself and he thought it would weird him out, but it didn’t. It felt right, being here with Tony boneless and still wanting more. The kiss wasn’t rough and Steve let Tony keep it soft.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the kiss broke, Steve let his thumb stroke across Tony’s face, letting himself remember it for later. He hadn’t started a new sketchbook yet, but Tony made him want to. Maybe he would go tomorrow -- he had some time in the morning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not sure San Junipero is enough,” Tony said softly, voice breaking through Steve’s thoughts. “This once a week thing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” Steve asked and, for the first time since he met the man, Tony looked unsure. He cast his eyes down between them and Steve frowned, tilting Tony’s chin back up. “Tony...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want to see you. Outside of here.” Tony worried at his lower lip.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve tensed, leaning back a bit from him. “I...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know, I know, either one of us could be different, but...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is a bad idea,” Steve interrupted. “Tony, I--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> it’s a bad idea, but I want to--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony frowned before bending a bit to tug his pants back on. “What, are you some kind of celebrity?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sort... of?” Nobody really knew him off base, but the news still mentioned him from time to time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sort of? How can you be sort of a celebrity? YouTube star? Twitter? Whatever new sort of video platform is out there?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve took a few steps back. “It’s not that, I just--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“CEO? Billionaire? Because I can guarantee you, Steve, I don’t care. If you have money, I don’t want it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I never thought you...” he trailed off, not really sure what to say. It was obvious Tony was upset with him, but how much more upset would he be to find out just who Steve was? Would he be upset? Would he even still want him?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Steve--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m a vet,” Steve interrupted, trying to find something that would help Tony not hate him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So what, did you lose a limb? Have scars from some kind of explosion? PTSD” Steve flinched at that, but Tony kept going. “Steve, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t care</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do care!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony snapped his mouth closed and Steve immediately felt guilt at his outburst. Before he could apologize, Tony crossed his arms over his chest, turning away from Steve. “I think you should go,” he said, voice cutting through the silence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tony--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Next time you decide to show up, maybe I’ll be back sitting in peace circles singing about flower power or some bullshit, but I can’t do this right now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve sighed, unable to get out another word before Tony disappeared. At least Tony gave him a place to start looking next time.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p><a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/37i9dQZF1DX46kgfAzfFJL?si=3v6f60oFSVmgIu2cqiA2BA">1920 Spotify Playlist</a><br/>(Should I put these at the top?)</p>
<p>
  <a href="https://www.thespruceeats.com/bees-knees-cocktail-recipe-760010">Bee's Knees Recipe</a>
  <br/>
  <a href="https://www.thespruceeats.com/last-word-cocktail-recipe-760095">The Last Word Recipe</a>
</p>
<p>Sadly, I haven't yet been able to make either since Gin isn't something my house stocks normally, but ... tis the holiday season lmao.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Present Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Steve hadn’t exactly lied when he told Tony he served his country in the war. He just... didn’t say </span>
  <em>
    <span>which</span>
  </em>
  <span> war. He knew there were plenty of Residents and Tourists alike roaming the streets who served in WWII -- hell, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tony</span>
  </em>
  <span> could be just as old as them -- so he let the man assume. They could never meet outside the virtual landscape the city gave them (and probably wouldn’t after yesterday’s disaster), so why bother?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That and who would ever believe that shy, blushing, (assumed) virgin, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>gay</span>
  </em>
  <span> Steve Rogers was Captain America?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His name had been kept under strict security during the project, especially after Erskine died. Nobody alive today, save for Fury and Coulson, knew exactly who he was under the uniform. Not that he ever got </span>
  <em>
    <span>out</span>
  </em>
  <span> of uniform technically. When he wasn’t moving around the SHIELD base as Captain America, Steve still wore a uniform. SHIELD-issued that marked him as a lowly trainee, but one all the same.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Besides running missions, he wasn’t sure what to do with his life. Art as a passion had melted with the ice even if certain things made him want to pick it back up. He knew nobody but his superiors and team -- even the Avengers didn’t really stick around to talk despite the rumors of them all living in some downtown mansion. All Steve knew was work.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Tony.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shook thoughts of his virtual lover away as he heard familiar footsteps approaching from behind. Not that Clint would ever </span>
  <em>
    <span>let</span>
  </em>
  <span> him hear his footsteps unless it was intentional. The archer never missed Steve’s brooding look, though, and Steve appreciated the warning that he wasn’t alone any longer. Out of all the Avengers, Clint was closest to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What strange fact about the world have you come across this week?” the archer asked as he stood next to Steve, hands relaxed on his hips. “Did you find out Princess Diana died?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clint scoffed. “Nat was right. You really haven’t been researching.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was, at first, what San Junipero was for. Steve had intended to visit each decade he had missed, immerse himself in the experience so he could understand it better. Tony was a little more distracting and better to be around than the reminders of years lost to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry,” he said, forcing himself not to scuff his feet across the floor. He was still in his Captain America get-up and Captain America wasn’t shy or ashamed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s fine, we’ll get you a book.” Clint gave Steve a smile before resting a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, Iron Man brought new toys from Stark.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That name, at least, Steve knew. Howard Stark had been on the team to turn him into a super-soldier, but now his son ran the business. Steve didn’t bother to look into the current CEO of Stark Industries, too afraid he would see his dead friend instead of the man’s son. When he met the Stark heir, he wanted to do it without potentially causing harm in their future relationship.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anthony “Tony” Stark never reached out to him either, so Steve didn’t feel as bad figuratively blowing him off. Their interactions had a wall of sorts between them for now -- a wall in the form of Iron Man. Stark’s “bodyguard” (as he referred to  him to the public) helped them on tougher missions and he had fun challenging Steve on some of his outdated ideas in battle. They learned to work as a cohesive team, a give and take they both danced around, and had eventually become friends of sorts. Though they never talked much outside of battles and briefings as Iron Man tended to fly off as soon as he was done. When he did stick around, Bruce Banner would always manage to drag him into his on-base lab where the two wouldn’t be seen for hours.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nobody knew the identity of Iron Man and Stark never seemed to want to give it up, no matter how often Steve heard Fury ask him over the phone. He was the only one on the team Steve didn’t know, but it wasn’t as if he could demand it -- nobody knew who he was either. Clint had never seen a point to hiding his identity and Bruce wanted to be as distanced from the Hulk as possible when he wasn’t green. Since Natasha had simply shrugged when Steve asked why she didn’t go by Widow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve followed Clint to the briefing room where the rest of the team waited. Bruce gave him a small nod before turning back to the device Iron Man had been explaining to him. Natasha kicked out the chair across from her just as Clint all but fell into it -- sometimes the way they were in sync with another still surprised Steve. He decided to take the chair across from where Iron Man stood, leaning his arms on the table as he looked over what the man brought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not that he would know what any of it was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I got something special for you,” Iron Man said, robotic voice breaking through Steve’s drifting thoughts. “Stark noticed that you keep having to go collect your shield when the trajectory is off or it gets stuck somewhere and all that really does is waste time and leave you vulnerable.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve shrugged, the scrape of the shield moving across his shoulders from its back holster. The shield, while his weapon, was also the last gift he had received from Howard Stark before his ice coma. The last thing he wanted to do was change it, but he would at least listen to the suggestion.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m keeping the shield,” he said, sitting up straighter, “but what did you have in mind?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nobody’s trying to take your frisbee,” Iron Man teased. He reached forward and picked up what looked like Thor’s gauntlet. “It’s a retrieval unit. Mr. Stark got the idea from how Thor can recall his hammer at will. Since he didn’t have your shield on hand to test, he’ll probably need to adjust it a bit, but he’s pretty sure he got the magnetic properties correct since he had Howard Stark’s notes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve reached out for the gauntlet, turning it over in his hands. “So I just wear it and ... then what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Make a fist to call the shield to your arm. It’ll take some practice, so I don’t recommend you wear it out on the next call if it’s soon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The change wasn’t too bad and he was sure, given enough time, Howard might have even done the same. Steve nodded before motioning for Iron Man to continue onto the next item -- some kind of arrow system for Clint. He didn’t pay that much attention to it -- Fury or Coulson would make sure he got the full report later. He might not fight with his team’s weapons, but as their leader, it was good to know what they could do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The meeting wrapped up soon after and Steve stood, giving Iron Man a nod before the man/machine left through a newly-opened window. Fury had that installed after Iron Man had broken the original in an irritated rage after a not-so-good team debrief. Steve watched the shine of gold and red disappear into the sky before looking back to the room, finding it empty of everyone except Fury.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re head wasn’t here today,” the man accused, his one eye staring Steve down. “Mind explaining?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A lot on my mind, I guess.” Steve eyed the gauntlet still on the desk. “You think that’ll work?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t see why it won’t. Stark might be a pain in the ass, but he knows what he’s doing.” Fury stepped closer, hands clasped tightly behind his back. “I’ve been trying to convince him for years to be more involved with the team. I’m sure Banner would like help from him more than Iron Man, but we’ll take what we can get.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Doesn’t he get help from Stark through Iron Man?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe.” Fury looked down at the gauntlet. “How are your trips to San Junipero going? I saw you went to the 20s last time...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve hoped the blush on his face wasn’t obvious. “I did.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You grew up in the 20s...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wanted to see how the world saw the decade.” Steve forced himself to look Fury in the eye. “It’s different, which makes me question the other decades I’ve already been to. How different are they?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s a museum down one of the streets. Have you found it yet?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clint had told Steve about the museum and Steve had gone by the place once on his way to the pier, but he never stepped inside. “I wanted to explore myself, but I guess I should look around.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good man.” Fury nodded before moving around Steve and going for the door. “You’ll be going back in a few days, so maybe start with the 40s or 50s. Go to the museum, see what you missed, and start from there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was the last thing Steve wanted to do. “Yes, sir.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And Captain?” Fury stopped at the door, turning to frown at Steve. “Remember that this isn’t some vacation we’re allowing you to go on. San Junipero isn’t cheap to run, even with our special permissions for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something tightened in Steve’s chest. “I understand, sir.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fury shook his head. “You only have eight sessions left, remember. Make them count.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve stayed silent as Fury left the room, unsure what to do. He knew there had been a limit placed on how often he could go to the virtual world of San Junipero, but he had lost track of how many were left. He settled back down in a chair, leaning as far back as his shield would let him. With so few left, he knew he had to do something about Tony, about how he felt with the man. Still, meeting him in the real world seemed so far out of reach with who he was and the secrets surrounding him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Confused and more than a little apprehensive, Steve stared down at Stark’s gauntlet and wished it could give him the answers he desperately needed.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. 1950</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/408nCmOGUqFEMqYhrLmuNJ?si=RI5PuqyPQg2s7ws816hJgA">Spotify Playlist</a>
</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Through no fault of his own, Steve didn’t make it back to San Junipero for almost three weeks. He wasn’t sure if he would come across Tony -- the clue was surely ignored by this point. Still, he found himself wandering the streets of the 1950s on his way to the museum. If he didn’t look too closely, they weren’t much different from before he joined the war effort in the ‘40s. Televisions were seen more often in the shop windows along with a few ads for a remote control. “Never get off the couch again!” one ad read. The fact that it was attached to the television by a wire and only had four buttons made Steve grin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve moved onto the next store, pausing as he saw a familiar figure leaning over the counter. Dressed in some odd, dark plaid shorts with socks stopping right below his knees with a black polo shirt was Tony. Steve found himself focused on the man’s ass, recalling their night together the last time he had been here. He smiled before pushing open the shop door, the bell jingling above him to announce his entrance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Both Tony and the woman behind the counter looked at him. They both smiled, but Tony’s smile drew Steve closer and he couldn’t look away from it. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>missed</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tony.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look who the wind blew in,” Tony said before standing straight. “I haven’t seen you in a while...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Work thing,” Steve explained, letting himself look over Tony’s outfit again. “Do you come here just to see how ridiculous you can dress?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Says mister leather jacket.” Tony reached forward to tug a bit at the collar of Steve’s jacket. “You got a greaser look to you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that a bad thing?” Steve was going to kill Clint if this was stupid.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I like it.” Tony leaned back against the counter. “I’m used to being labeled the bad boy, so this is a nice change of pace.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve laughed, tucking his thumbs into his belt loops. “Why am I not surprised?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony watched him for a long moment before turning his head and saying a quick farewell to the woman watching them. Before Steve could be polite and say one as well, Tony linked their arms together and led Steve straight out of the shop and onto the street again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tony--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nope, no arguing. We’re going on a date.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve arched an eyebrow. “A date?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony’s hand went from Steve’s elbow to lace with his fingers instead. “Mostly because I want to, but I also feel a little bad about how we left last time. As my best friend told me when I got home, I was being selfish and not respecting your wishes.” He tried a smile. “I may also not react well to what I see as rejection.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I never meant to reject you,” Steve insisted. “My life is just... complicated.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s okay, you don’t need to explain.” Tony squeezed their hands, tugging Steve down a familiar street. “I’ll take what I can get for now. Work on convincing you later.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thought that scared Steve the most was if he got any closer to Tony, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>would</span>
  </em>
  <span> agree to meet outside of San Junipero. Fury might not agree, but Steve knew he was falling for Tony. It wouldn’t take that much longer for him to cave. Even knowing that both of them could get in trouble for exposing who Steve was, Steve allowed Tony to lead him through the streets.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he saw Tuckers’ light, Steve stopped walking, tugging Tony back against him. “Can we...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is it?” Tony turned to face Steve, reaching a hand up to move a bit of hair from Steve’s eyes. “I know Tuckers isn’t probably what you imagined, but I figured since we met there...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not that.” Steve shook his head. “I just want to spend time with </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Not you and a bunch of other people.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve brought Tony’s hand up to kiss his knuckles. “Can we maybe do this date thing next time? A different decade? I just want to be alone right now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony leaned up on his toes to kiss Steve’s chin. “As if I could say no to you,” he murmured. “My place?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If that’s okay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Steve, that’s always okay.” Tony gave him a grin. “Come on, let’s go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite knowing that this was probably a bad idea (even if he </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> suggested it), Steve let Tony lead him down the familiar street toward the apartments. They said nothing as they got through the door and into the elevator. But as soon as the door closed, Steve turned and pressed Tony against the wall, a knee between the shorter man’s legs. Tony just let out a laugh, wrapping his arms around Steve’s neck before pulling him in for a kiss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It felt like coming home. It felt right to stand here, in the middle of some virtual world, kissing a man he had never actually met. To push him from the elevator and stumble down the hall once the doors opened. To pin him against the apartment door, one hand pulling Tony’s shirt up to run fingers over his skin. And when Tony held tighter before shifting so he could wrap both legs around Steve’s waist, he knew there was no other place he really wanted to be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fury was going to kill him. Maybe. Probably.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve kept one hand on Tony’s ass to help hold him up, the other secure around his back. Thankful that the apartments didn’t change with the decade, Steve managed to get them through the front door, down the hall and into the bedroom easily enough. He walked toward the bed, but Tony broke the kiss and shook his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I request the wall?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve blinked at him. “The... wall?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony bit his lower lip before rolling his hips against Steve’s stomach, the hard erection obvious. “This is incredibly hot.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve let out a snort of amusement, but he did turn them and roughly press Tony up against the nearest wall. “I can try. I chose the bed last time because I wasn’t sure...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I trust you not to drop me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I... don’t know how to respond to that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pushing me up against the wall and fucking me until I can’t talk sounds like a good enough response for me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve couldn’t help the blush that stole across his face, but he turned and took the few steps until he had Tony’s back against the nearest wall. They kissed again, Steve letting himself get lost while Tony’s fingers gripped into his hair. His own hands held tightly onto Tony’s ass, fingers kneading it as his hips shifted between them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pants,” Tony breathed out as he broke the kiss, head tilting back against the wall. “Push your pants down just enough...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t easy, but Tony did tighten his hold while Steve moved one hand between them to fumble with his pants. He eventually got them undone and roughly pushed them down enough that his erection popped free. Steve let out a groan, hand moving next to Tony’s own pants.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How...?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just hold me a sec.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve did as he had been asked, balancing Tony against the wall as the shorter man fully let go in order to quickly undo his shorts. As his hands were already on Tony’s ass, Steve carefully used his fingers to pull them down Tony’s hips as far as he could. They bunched up uncomfortably between them, but now there was at least room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Always wanted to try this,” Tony said, voice soft as he shifted his hips against Steve. “Please... Steve, please.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve couldn’t say no to that, not that he was going to tell Tony. He leaned forward to kiss him again, fingers digging into Tony’s ass. He wasn’t sure where it came from, but suddenly Tony handed him a bottle of lube and Steve needed no further encouragement.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Next time they did this, if there happened to be a next time against a wall, Steve was removing the clothes. At least removing Tony’s clothes -- the shorts restricted a bit of movement, but like hell he was going to drop Tony on the floor just to pull them off now. He barely had two fingers in the other man before Tony arched against him, insisting he was ready.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve wasn’t sure if he was ready himself, but he ran more lube over his aching dick anyway before pressing it inside Tony. His legs were already shaking a bit, but Steve just shifted his stance, letting the low moan from Tony give him the strength to ignore everything but this. The feeling of being inside Tony again. Of being able to do this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He thrust up into Tony, mostly unaware of anything else around them. He vaguely heard the </span>
  <em>
    <span>thump</span>
  </em>
  <span> of Tony’s back hitting the wall with each thrust, but Tony didn’t seem to care. If anything, he tightened his hold around Steve, nonsense words coming from his mouth. Steve shifted his hands so he could bring one between them, wrapping it around Tony’s erection and stroking it in time with his thrusts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony swore at that, hips rolling against Steve as his body tried to feel everything. He was begging now, nails digging into Steve’s shoulders. Steve knew he was close, could almost feel as Tony tried to hold back. That wasn’t what Steve wanted and he shifted his stance so he could try and press further, pulling a strangled noise from Tony’s throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Neither of them lasted much longer than that. A few more strokes and Tony tightened everything around Steve, coming with a silent scream. The look on Tony’s face -- ecstasy mixed with absolute happiness -- did Steve in and he thrust twice more before he came as well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He used his body weight to hold Tony against the wall, legs all but useless as they shook beneath him. Their breathing, still labored, was the only sound in the room before Tony let out a small laugh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That was so much better than my fantasies,” Tony said, voice breathless still. “Holy shit we’re doing this again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Next time,” Steve said between breaths as he eased Tony down, “we’re naked when we do this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hell yes to next time.” Tony grinned, letting his pants finally drop to the ground. “Bed?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve nodded his agreement and Tony tugged his shirt off before heading to the bed and all but falling on it. Steve shook his head before removing his own clothes. Before joining Tony on the bed, he knelt and carefully removed the other man’s shoes and utterly ridiculous socks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m a little afraid to see how you dress in the other decades.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony rolled over, giving Steve a grin. “One way to find out. Come here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve had no problem moving closer. He ran a hand up Tony’s side as he crawled onto the bed, pressing lazy kisses across Tony’s skin as he went. After giving a longer kiss to Tony’s lips, he rolled to his back and stared at the ceiling, unable to remove the smile from his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not that he wanted to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony shifted closer and ran his hands across Steve’s chest, an easy smile across his own face. “Is this how you look outside of here?” he asked, palm pressed over the top of Steve’s abs. “I know some people change their looks and I honestly don’t care, but...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“More or less,” Steve interrupted, hand coming up to lace with Tony’s. “Is this how you look?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“More or less.” Tony winked before leaning down to press a kiss right above Steve’s heart. “Has anyone ever told you that you look sculpted?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve snorted. “Trust me, the sculptures you’re thinking of only look good from a distance.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you a sculptor?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Steve said, shaking his head. “No, but I did dabble in art before my military career.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony sat up a bit. “Are you any good?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess so?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony scrambled off of Steve and reached into the side table drawer. “I have </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> wanted to say this.” He handed over a sketchbook and charcoals. Once Steve had them in hand, he stretched himself out of the bed, one arm posed across his forehead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Draw me like one of your French girls,” he said, false accent not convincing at all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve could only stare dumbly at Tony since he had absolutely no idea what was going on. “I... what? Where did these come from?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony shrugged. “San Junipero supplies what we need. Now come on, draw me like Rose. Put an obnoxious rock on my neck, too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This had to be a reference to something, but Steve couldn’t recall anything about French women, drawing, and rocks. He hesitated before sitting up. “Tony, I’m not... I don’t know...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony sat up as well, eyes wide. “Have you never seen </span>
  <em>
    <span>Titanic</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Holy shit.” Tony got on his knees so he could inch closer. “Seriously? Kate Winslet, Leonardo DiCaprio, and the biggest shipwreck ever?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve shook his head. “Sorry...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nope, no.” Tony took the sketchbook and charcoals, putting them aside before straddling Steve’s lap. “Don’t go look it up when you get back home because next week, that’s what we’re doing. You wanted a date and that’s what we’re going to do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. “We’re going to drown on a boat?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>, we’re going to watch the movie.” Tony grinned. “Meet me in the 90s next time and we’ll get dinner and a movie and, well...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sex,” Steve finished for him, leaning forward to kiss Tony’s neck. “Because I’m sure if there’s a shipwreck, there’s tragedy and we’ll have to cheer ourselves up somehow.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Exactly,” Tony agreed. “And, you know, we’ll want to make sure it’s good. We might have to practice.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve just laughed again before relaxing back onto the bed, taking Tony with him. “And then I’m sure I’ll still need to draw you like a French girl after.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Exactly.” Tony gave Steve a grin before leaning in to kiss him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It would be his first real date and Steve almost couldn’t wait.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. 1990</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is my favorite stupid chapter because I'm a big fan of James Cameron and <i>Titanic</i> whoops.</p><p>And while I watched the movie while writing most of this chapter, I still have a <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/37i9dQZF1DXbTxeAdrVG2l?si=QQWkqZhKRm-f7jGLIqsQDA">Spotify Playlist</a> for you.</p><p>I offer no apologies for the random facts Tony spews. XD</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tucker’s was now half bar, half internet cafe. Steve stayed by the entrance, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of the multiple people wandering through the rows of computers where there were once game consoles. Some were obviously looking up porn, but others kept to random videos of cats -- one person looked to be on some kind of conspiracy site. If it weren’t for his date, Steve might have been tempted to go see what exactly San Junipero offered regarding the internet.</p><p>Before he could give in to temptation, an arm slipped around his waist and Tony leaned up to press a scratchy kiss to his cheek. Steve couldn’t help but grin, glad that no matter the decade, Tony refused to change his facial hair; Steve liked the look on him. He turned to give Tony a proper kiss, hand gently cradling Tony’s face.</p><p>“Knew you missed me,” Tony said once the kiss broke. “And damn, you look good.”</p><p>Steve looked down at his odd mix of clothes. Dark cargo pants (why were there <em>so</em> <em>many</em> pockets?) and a slightly-baggy blue flannel shirt with a white tank top. He felt underdressed for a date, but Natasha had insisted this was a good look for the decade. Keeping with his apparent odd choice in dress, Tony wore a t-shirt with some kind of graphic on it he couldn’t recognize along with a pair of overalls with one of the straps undone. Both of them wore combat boots which actually relaxed Steve as he thought Natasha had been joking about that.</p><p>“I don’t think I’ll ever understand fashion,” Steve said finally, tugging at the hanging strap on Tony’s overalls. “Why?”</p><p>“Because.” Tony took Steve’s hand and squeezed it. “Ready for our date? Do you want to do dinner first or the movie or both?”</p><p>“What did people do in this decade?”</p><p>Tony shrugged. “Don’t really care, honestly. I just want you to have a good time. We might be in the 90s for the setting, but it’s not as if we have to stick with the whole theme of it.”</p><p>Part of Steve wanted to push since he was supposed to be learning about the decade, but the happiness on Tony’s face made him ignore the urge to do so. Instead, he leaned in to give Tony another kiss, heart fluttering as the smaller man pressed against him.</p><p>“Let’s do both,” he finally decided, raising Tony’s hand so he could kiss his knuckles. “I guess that’s something to do at your place?”</p><p>“We could do it at my place,” Tony agreed with a grin. “But no sex until after.”</p><p>“Yes, yes, I remember. We need to watch the tragedy of everyone who dies and be so upset we need to be naked to fix it.”</p><p>Tony laughed, tugging Steve toward the door. “I knew there was a reason I liked you. Is dinner my choice? Are you allergic to anything?”</p><p>“Shouldn’t San Junipero take care of allergies? Not that I have any...” Not anymore.</p><p>“Right... No, you’re right, it does.” Tony tilted his head. “Fancy or fun?”</p><p>Steve tried to picture himself sitting down with Tony, cutting into a steak as they wore some fancy tux with bowties. That sort of stuffy date never sat well with him, so Steve shook his head.</p><p>“Not fancy,” he said, not quite sure what ‘fun’ meant. “Surprise me, though.”</p><p>“Surprise it is,” Tony agreed, leading them down the streets. “Come on, dinner and a show waiting.”</p><p>The walk to the building and up to Tony’s apartment felt as though it took less time than usual. He resisted the urge to pin Tony against the elevator wall, wanting to actually get through the date without leading them straight to the bed first. With only a limited time left (six more visits, after today), he wanted to actually see if this would go anywhere.</p><p>If it <em> could </em> go anywhere.</p><p>“May I introduce the best dinner and a movie combination,” Tony said as he opened the door to his apartment. The living room was already set up with a large-screen television, what looked like the title screen looping. On the coffee table was a steaming pizza and a glass of wine, bowls of popcorn on either side. “You like?”</p><p>“It’s perfect,” Steve told him, tugging Tony toward the couch. “Thank you.”</p><p>“Good. Ready for this?”</p><p>“More than.” Steve settled on the couch, pulling Tony next to him. “Let’s get on with this. If I cry...”</p><p>Tony laughed, reaching for a slice of pizza as the movie began. “If you cry, you can top tonight.”</p><p>He arched an eyebrow. “Well, now I want to...”</p><p>“I wouldn’t say no.”</p><p>“I’ll keep that in mind.” Steve grabbed his own slice and turned his focus to the movie as it showed the sunken ship.</p><p>“You know,” Tony said as the camera panned across a piano, “a lot of this is actual footage the director took when he was doing his own dives.”</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>Tony nodded, wiping his hands on a napkin. “And it’s said that Cameron only wanted to make this movie so he could dive down to see the shipwreck.”</p><p>Steve laughed a little, turning to give him a soft smile. “Are you going to tell me everything you know?”</p><p>“Is... is that a bad thing?”</p><p>“No,” Steve said quickly before leaning in to give Tony a kiss. “I love it. Keep going.”</p><p>And so the film went on, peppered with tidbits of information with each new scene. Facts about the actors or meanings behind certain shots. That the length of the scenes in the past equaled the same amount of time it took for the ship to sink. It was the director who did the naked picture. The pomeranian represented the three surviving dogs... It warmed Steve to know just how much information Tony had to share.</p><p>It was easy to see how much love went into the film, too.</p><p>Steve had grown up on stories of the Titanic. Born just six years after its sinking, the incident was still fresh on people’s minds and teachers loved to use it as a lesson of some kind or another. Seeing it as a Romeo and Juliet-type love story was a bit strange, but he soon lost himself in the story. Even Tony’s continuing facts didn’t deter his attention -- it only added to the experience.</p><p>“I’m going to go to the highest building in New York and scream that,” Tony had said earlier as Jack stood at the rails of the ship, shouting about being king of the world. Steve laughed, picturing him doing so easily.</p><p>“Maybe we’ll do that together,” Steve later whispered as Jack held Rose in the same spot, the sunset bleeding in the background. The smile on Tony’s face was an even better view than anything Jack and Rose had on the ship; Steve reached over, lacing their fingers happily.</p><p>When the scene came up, with Rose saying the line about drawing, Steve let out a snort. “This? Really?”</p><p>“What?” Tony pinched his side. “It’s a great line! And I’m finally dating an artist, so I’m able to say it.”</p><p>“Impossible,” Steve murmured before tilting Tony’s chin so he could kiss him. “Absolutely impossible.”</p><p>“Maybe,” Tony agreed, shifting closer, “but you like it.”</p><p>No, Steve decided, he didn’t just like it. He <em> loved </em> it. And he knew, in that moment with Celine Dion’s instrumental accompaniment in the background and Tony’s smile, that he loved the man next to him.</p><p>Steve kissed him again, deepening it just as the music faded out. The last thing he wanted to admit was that he loved Tony, sure that it was far too soon to admit such a thing. When he broke the kiss, he pulled Tony against him, turning back to focus on the movie where Jack and Rose were running through what looked like an engine room. </p><p>Even though he knew it was coming, Steve let out a gasp as the iceberg came on screen, muttering ‘turn’ to himself. He gripped tighter to Tony’s hand, quiet as the passengers -- especially the third-class ones -- noticed the danger.</p><p>“Is this really accurate to what happened?” he asked as those on deck played soccer with some ice.</p><p>“Cameron loves the story and it’s been said that, for the time, it was probably the most historically accurate timeline of events. Minus the Rose and Jack stuff.” Tony traces his fingers across Steve’s thigh. “Apparently the ship actually broke into three pieces, but that wasn’t found out until <em> after </em> the film. The movie is preserved in some historic place... I can’t remember where.”</p><p>“I’ll make a note to visit sometime.”</p><p>Tony was quiet a moment before letting out a breath. “I could take you one day. If you’re up for it, I mean.”</p><p>Steve squeezed Tony’s hand and refused to answer. They settled into silence as the passengers gathered, lifejackets looking ridiculous under their first-class clothes. Steve bit his lip, feeling almost anxious at the number of people he knew he would watch perish. Somehow, the story of Titanic was worse when told as such -- all he wanted was for Jack and Rose to survive despite how much he knew Jack wouldn’t make it.</p><p>As Rose backed away from her mother, and thus her life, Steve grinned and he actually laughed as she spat in Cal’s face. “Jack taught her well,” he murmured, pulling a laugh from Tony as well. “I hate that you’re making me watch this for one scene.”</p><p>“If you hated me that much, you wouldn’t still be sitting here.”</p><p>“Shh.” He motioned with his free hand at the screen. “I’m watching the perilous journey our heroes are taking.”</p><p>“Did you know,” Tony started, making Steve grin, “that the water was actually freezing and her reactions are natural because of it?”</p><p>Steve shivered, mind bringing back the sharp cold of the Atlantic he had felt himself. While he didn’t necessarily have to be in it as long as Rose and Jack did -- the shock of hitting the ocean knocked him unconscious so he didn’t feel much of anything that he could remember. But his body couldn’t stand cold showers anymore, nor did he appreciate it when someone managed to spill their ice water on him.</p><p>“I don’t think I could do that,” he finally said. “Not a fan of cold water.”</p><p>“I’ll keep that in mind and make sure our showers are always hot.” Tony kissed the side of Steve’s neck. “Bad memories?”</p><p>“You can say that. I don’t really--”</p><p>“It’s okay.”</p><p>It wasn’t until Rose jumped out of her lifeboat that Steve said anything else. He let out a groan, swearing to himself as she ran through the crowds and back toward Jack. He wasn’t sure if he were angrier at Rose for being stupid, or himself for actually tearing up at the action. As it was, from then on, Steve could only stare at the finality of the tragedy played out on screen.</p><p>From the Captain’s somber departure to die in solitude with his ship to Rose and Jack flailing in the cold ocean, Steve’s heart ached. Tragedy was never fair, and especially so for the people aboard the doomed ship. He wished he had been able to help them, though he knew it would have been impossible. His saving-people complex, as Iron Man called it.</p><p>“Did you enjoy your tragedy?” Tony asked as a young Rose walked up the staircase toward the clock where Jack waited for her. “Was it what you expected?”</p><p>Steve made a face before shifting and pulling Tony completely into his lap. “What do the survivors think about it?”</p><p>“Many had already passed by the time this came out, but the family members thought it was done well.” Tony adjusted his position so he could straddle Steve’s lap. “Why?”</p><p>Mostly because Steve didn’t think Peggy’s family, or any of the Howlie’s families, would appreciate a film made out of their deaths. Nobody knew who the Howlies were, though, so maybe that was the difference. “I guess I’m just finding it hard to believe they were okay with it.”</p><p>“I get that.” Tony ran his hand through Steve’s hair. “There will always be people not okay with it. Especially since this is the highest-grossing film.”</p><p>“Is it?”</p><p>“Nothing but Cameron himself has topped it. The guy is good when it comes to this stuff.”</p><p>“I can see that. What’s the other movie?”</p><p>Tony snorted. “There is no way you <em> haven’t </em> heard of his <em> Avatar </em> franchise. I absolutely refuse to believe you don’t know what that is.” He ran his hand down Steve’s chest. “Everybody knows the blue alien movie.”</p><p>Steve did not want to admit that he had no idea what Tony was talking about, so he decided to change the subject instead. “We should do this again.”</p><p>“Watch a tragedy?”</p><p>“Go on a date.” Steve reached up, cupping Tony’s cheek. “Let me plan our next date?”</p><p>“You want to?”</p><p>“I want to.” Steve tugged on Tony’s loose strap. “Now shut up and make me feel better.”</p><p>“My pleasure,” Tony said with a laugh before kissing him.</p><p>Steve wanted to show Tony his home, as much as he could, so that’s where he would take him. He ran a hand up Tony’s back. “You know... you did promise I could top if I cried.”</p><p>Tony smirked. “Oh yeah, I saw a tear roll down your cheek. You sure you’re up for it?”</p><p>“Oh, I’m up for it,” Steve said before going about proving it.</p><p>They never left the couch.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>One fun fact I came across while watching this film actually made me lose a bit of respect for Neil deGrasse Tyson? I adore his usual inputs in regards to accurate science stuff, but he apparently took so much offense to the fact that the stars Rose was looking up at while she was in the water weren't what they should have looked like, that he complained no less than four times. Eventually, Cameron changed it to make it look like the damn right stars. However, that took out the fact that before this, the stars were <i>made up to look like a constellation in the form of the necklace</i>, which has far more significance than the damn correct sky. And he could have argued that it was Rose's cold hallucination. So in this instance, I really just want to tell Tyson to stfu because sometimes significance is better than accuracy. I adore the crap out of you sir, but come <i>on</i>. Rant over. XD</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. 1940</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0CZdFXdaI14hzMPdhLwCBT?si=IaQEqG-PT7-1Tcacszu2Kg">Spotify Playlist</a>
</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tucker’s poured out jazz music that Steve was very familiar with -- something his best friend had made sure of well before they left for the war. Dexter Gordon’s “You Stepped Out of a Dream” happened to be one of Bucky’s favorites and Steve found himself with a wistful smile as he approached the bar to get some drinks. Tony wasn’t supposed to meet him for another few minutes; Steve had arrived early just to make sure their plans for the night were perfect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least here he knew what kind of drinks to order. He got their drinks ready before turning to look over the gathered crowd, most of which were obviously not used to dancing with jazz music. He didn’t mind, though, since watching the couples stumble their way through dance moves at least let him pass the time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon enough, the door opened and Tony walked in. There was no way Steve wouldn’t recognize him now and he raised a hand to wave the man over. Tony returned the wave before making his way through the crowds. It wasn’t until he settled next to Steve at the bar that he noticed exactly what Tony was wearing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A crochet sweater?” Steve asked, running his fingers over the numbers repeatedly running over the threads. “Well, it isn’t the worst thing you could have chosen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony snorted and tugged at Steve’s open shirt. “Says the guy wearing a Hawaiian shirt. Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve had disappeared into the ice before he could even attempt to wear one, so he shrugged. “Trying to keep up with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You could never.” Tony leaned up to give him a quick kiss. “So, where to first?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right here.” Steve turned back to the barkeep just in time for the man to drop off four drinks -- two of which were identical. “I hope you don’t mind me ordering for you...?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not at all.” Tony leaned over, inspecting the two orange drinks. “What is this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s called a Frosty Punch Romaine. Considering its history, I thought it was appropriate to start our evening with it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony picked up his glass to take a small sip. “It’s a frozen cocktail.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is,” Steve agreed, taking his own glass. “And it was also served to the first-class passengers aboard the Titanic during their last dinner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seriously?” Tony let out a laugh. “God, I love that you did that. What’s the other two?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony went back to slowly sipping his romaine while Steve explained their other drinks. “Mine is a Pimm’s Cup. Not really something from the 40’s, but it was my favorite for the taste, honestly. It’s fruity and doesn’t have the bite most alcohols do. Though, did you know that the original recipe is a secret to the world? Only six people really know it, though I doubt they’re alive to tell it anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not a lot of alcohol either,” Tony said with a grin, “but good to know. Steve likes Pimm’s. Does it matter the alcohol added?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve only ever had it with gin...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can try different combinations later,” Tony promised. “And my drink?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve blushed, not quite sure he should have gone with this one after all. “It’s, ah... It’s called Between the Sheets.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony put down his finished romaine and moved closer to Steve. “Trying to tell me something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve </span>
  <em>
    <span>almost</span>
  </em>
  <span> wanted to say screw the date. Almost. “Isn’t that where I always want you?” he asked instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You absolute </span>
  <em>
    <span>tease</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They didn’t take long after that to finish their drinks and, after a quick dance that Tony insisted on, they stumbled out of Tucker’s and into the night. Tony reached out to take Steve’s hand, lacing their fingers together as they wandered further away from the bar. Steve couldn’t remember the last time he felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> happy, this free to do what he wanted. He let out a soft sigh before stopping them under a streetlight so he could give Tony a soft kiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hungry?” he asked after they broke apart. His free hand reached up to gently slide through Tony’s hair, enjoying him being so close. “I’ve got the perfect place to go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lead the way.” Tony let go of Steve’s hand so he could instead slip his arm around the taller man’s waist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve just smiled at the movement and rested his own arm around Tony’s shoulders, enjoying the feel of him being so close. He never had the luck to take anyone on a date before the war -- too skinny and too sickly to worry about what he’d do with a spouse of any kind. So maybe taking Tony to the 40s was a weird do-over attempt, but he wasn’t about to admit that to anyone but himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned them onto a street and smiled as he saw the bright lights of a soda fountain ahead. Beside him, Tony seemed to perk up and he shot Steve a look before a smile spread across his face. Steve just shook his head and, once they got close enough, he held the door like a gentleman, letting Tony inside first.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are we going to share a milkshake?” Tony asked, sliding into the nearest empty booth. “I always wanted to try that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve slid in across from him, unable to stop smiling. “We can share whatever you want, Tony.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I mean with the two straws and everything. Like in the movies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve hadn’t seen a lot of couples share things when he walked past the fountains, but if that’s what Tony wanted, he wasn’t going to deny it. “Just pick the flavor. Not banana.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh god no. Chocolate, obviously.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chocolate it is.” Steve reached across the table to take Tony’s hand. “I know this isn’t as exciting as watching a ship sinking, but...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steve, this is perfect.” Tony squeezed Steve’s hand. “Nobody’s ever taken me somewhere like this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean nobody has taken you to an authentic soda fountain before?” Steve asked, giving Tony a wink. “I’m glad I’m first. Means I can show you all the good stuff about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been to some that try to act like real soda fountains, but I doubt people dance around in the aisles here.” Tony kept hold of Steve’s hand before taking a menu from where they were settled behind the ketchup. “And if they do, don’t tell me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does that mean I can tell you that they don’t? Where do they do that?” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why</span>
  </em>
  <span> would they do that?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My best friend took me to one after we had a night of excessive drinking. I swear I thought I had been hallucinating until the pictures came out the next day of me dipping some waitress in the middle of a dance number.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve snorted, thumb gently rubbing the back of Tony’s hand. “What’s this place called so I can avoid it at all costs?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no, I’m not telling you.” Tony gave Steve a mischievous grin. “You </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to go to one, it’s the law.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it, now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep, written down and signed. Can’t get out of it, you have to go and I’m not telling you the name just so you can avoid it.” Tony looked back down to his menu. “I mean, I’d take you, but...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve hesitated. “Tony, I...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay. Maybe you’ll even hold off going until you feel comfortable enough with meeting up outside of this. It’ll be our first real date.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something in Steve’s chest tightened at that -- all he wanted was to go to this unnamed restaurant now and sit across from Tony, sharing a chocolate shake like love-sick teenagers. He wanted the waitress to dance by them -- wanted her to know that they were together. He wanted to lean across the table and kiss Tony in front of the world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew his face was red and he looked down at the table, willing his blush away. He didn’t have much more time in San Junipero and he had to make it count. There was no sense in pretending he could have things that SHIELD might not let him have. He was their weapon, after all. He didn’t even think Natasha or Clint had lives outside of their missions, either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are burgers still the best thing to get at these places?” Tony asked, bringing Steve out of his thoughts. “I mean, that’s what they always do in the movies...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cheese burgers,” Steve said with a nod, “and a coke.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And a chocolate milkshake,” Tony insisted before turning his smile to the waitress next to their table. Steve hadn’t even noticed she showed up. “We’re on a date.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The waitress, a Resident, popped her gum before walking away. Steve wanted to watch her go, distract himself for a bit longer, but he also knew how stupid that was. So he focused back on Tony and squeezed his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for coming out with me,” he said, not sure what else </span>
  <em>
    <span>to</span>
  </em>
  <span> say. The few girls he had dared to take on any kind of date never really had anything to say to him before they took off and found someone else. And while they had been on a few dates before, this just felt different.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>important</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why the 40s?” Tony eventually asked, elbow on the table to help prop his head up. “Not that I mind...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve desperately wanted to tell Tony the truth, but instead he just smiled and said, “There’s something nice about them, I think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Them being the decade? It was mostly just... war.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, but a lot happened to shape our country. At least, I’d like to think so.” Steve tried a smile. “Gave us Captain America, yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony’s smile didn’t really sit right on his face. “Yeah, good ol’ Cap. He’s back, you know. They found him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I heard. Not that they wanted anyone to know.” The media made it difficult for Steve’s outfit to stay hidden forever, but SHIELD did their best. “Think it’s actually him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, probably.” Tony pulled his hand away. “Milkshake!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve leaned back as the waitress dropped off their cokes and a large chocolate milkshake with two straws already in it. Tony plucked the cherry off the top before Steve could question; not that he minded. He smiled as Tony popped it in his mouth, eyes closed in bliss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I knew a cherry could make you look like that...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony just opened his eyes before giving Steve a smirk. Together, they leaned forward and wrapped their lips around a straw to get some of the shake. Steve had never done this before and he was glad he could now -- watching the desire play across Tony’s eyes as they leaned close, each sucking on a straw as if it were something </span>
  <em>
    <span>else</span>
  </em>
  <span> they’d rather have in their mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve sure as hell wanted something else in his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaned back as Tony did, laughing when the other man pressed a hand against his forehead -- thoughts of what they could have been doing gone from his mind for the time being.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t realize you could get </span>
  <em>
    <span>brain freeze</span>
  </em>
  <span> here,” Tony complained. “Where’s the setting for that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve shrugged, not sure where it was himself. “Let’s not drink so fast next time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah.” Tony put his hand down as the burgers came to the table. “God, this looks so good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve leaned over and stole a fry just because he could. “I make sure my guy has the best, after all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony snorted before digging into his food. Steve watched him for a while, making sure to chew slowly so he didn’t inhale what would normally be half a meal for him. The last thing he wanted was for Tony to think he had an eating problem if he had more than what was on his plate. The higher metabolism was easier to explain away when he was in his outfit, less so when running around just as Steve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that it seemed to matter -- they had probably adjusted some kind of setting because even after the burger, Steve felt full. He leaned back in the booth, smiling as Tony flipped through a booklet of the music playing on the jukebox. Tony’s head perked up as a new one came on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love this song,” he said, shoulders moving along to it. “Mom used to play it as she got ready for whatever party she had to go to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve recognized it, memories of the war strong, and he nodded. “Glenn Miller, yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmhm. ‘The Boogie Wooglie Piggy’ or something like that. The title always made me laugh. Not as well known as ‘In The Mood,’ but I think it’s my favorite.” Tony frowned, fingers still tapping away on the table. “Shame what happened to him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve forced a smile. “The crash? Yeah, I know.” He had been there. Sort of. He could still recall the Howlies demanding the man play them some random song as they drove to the airstrip. “I don’t think Eisenhower ever forgave himself for it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eisenhower? What did he have to do with anything? His plane iced and went down in the weather.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe that was what people were told? Steve had no idea -- he never bothered to look up the incident when he came back from the ice. “...Right, yeah. Weather.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony leaned forward, pushing his plate out of the way as he did so. “Nah, nope. You have that look on your face. Spill, Steve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing to spill?” he tried, turning his gaze to the ceiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony reached forward, fingers gripping Steve’s chin as he forced his gaze back down. “See, now you got me all curious. And I’ll just bug you until you tell me anyway, so...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe there wasn’t a way to prove his story, so did it matter that Steve told the truth? “They say he was on a secret mission from Eisenhower to make a peace treaty with the Nazi army. They found out and, well, no more Miller, unfortunately.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony let go of Steve’s face, sitting back in the booth. “That’s just a conspiracy theory. I’ve read that one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Suit yourself, but I swear it’s true.” Steve relaxed a bit, hopeful that Tony would just think he was some kind of conspiracy nutjob. “I have a better idea than to debate the late Glenn Miller, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony’s grin returned. “Yeah? And what idea is that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve leaned across the table, taking Tony’s hand in his own. “I’d have to show you somewhere more private...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If anything, the grin on Tony’s face grew as he tugged Steve out of the booth and then out of the soda fountain. Steve followed him, just happy to be around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t until hours later, as they lay wrapped around another in bed, that Steve realized something. The feeling deep down in him, the butterflies in his stomach and dizzy spells that hit him whenever Tony smiled, could only mean one thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His daily time ran out and he disappeared from San Junipero just before he could potentially screw up the best thing in his life by blurting out just how much he had fallen for Tony.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>My deepest apologies to the Miller family! Glenn Miller's story that Steve tells is false, but it was an actual conspiracy theory that spread around back when his plane went down. You can read more about him and his death <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glenn_Miller">on his wiki page</a>. And take a good listen to <a href="https://open.spotify.com/artist/2aAHdB5HweT3mFcRzm0swc?si=0ML4D4H1TFaHRJ96UJ0RDA">his music</a> if you haven't!</p><p>The crochet sweater Tony is wearing <a href="https://life.tumblr.com/post/166116393214/jacquard-sweatersthey-have-zany-patterns-which">DOES exist</a> and will be further explained in the next chapter.</p><p>Thank you LOADS to "Put on the Suit" discord for the help in the date ideas. And BIG THANKS to <a href="https://steve-rogers-new-york.tumblr.com/">Steve Rogers New York</a> for the more specific details. Seriously, check out the tumblr if you ever need some Steve research!</p><p>Recipe time! <a href="https://www.supercall.com/recipe/punch-romaine-cocktail-recipe">Frosty Punch Romaine</a> really was served at the last meal on the Titanic.<br/><a href="https://mixthatdrink.com/pimms-no-1/">Pimm's Cup</a> is the "traditional drink of Wimbledon" -- the exact recipe is a secret except to six people. The numbers after the drink indicate if it's made with gin, whiskey, brandy, etc (Pimm's No 1 is gin, for example).<br/><a href="https://whiteonricecouple.com/recipes/between-the-sheets-cocktail-recipes/">Between the Sheets</a> is also known as Maiden's Prayer and has led to drinks like Slippery Nipple and Screaming Orgasms. XD</p><p>Also if anyone was curious about what restaurant Tony was mentioning, it was Johnny Rockets. I'm not sure if all of them sing/dance in the aisles, but the one I went to sure did.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Present Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Steve looked over the cards in his hand, trying desperately to ignore the consistent tapping of Clint’s fingers against the plastic table they sat around with Natasha. The tapping was a distraction technique and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>hated</span>
  </em>
  <span> that it seemed to be working, especially since so far he had a winning hand. Maybe. It was hard to tell since the other two were so good with poker faces.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, Cap, make your play,” Clint teased. “Some of us have work after we’re done here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And some of us are hoarding all the aces.” Steve held out his hand. “Hand ‘em over, asshole.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ooh, bringing out the harsh words,” Natasha said, a small smirk moving across her face. “That’s a dollar for the swear jar, good sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Put it on my tab.” Steve dropped the three aces Clint handed over onto the table, stacking his single one on top. “Thanks for collecting these for me. Now give me your two fours and I’ll be the happiest man here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god.” Clint tossed the cards in front of Steve. “Natasha, do something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not my fault you suck at Go Fish.” Natasha put her cards over her mouth, hiding her growing smile. “Might as well give him that six in your hand, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Tasha!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughed and held out his hand for the six as well. “You make it too easy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should have kept you on ice,” Clint muttered, laying the rest of his cards face-down so he could cross his arms. “Put you up in a museum somewhere.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’d miss me too much if that happened.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or we could have just uploaded you straight to San Junipero.” Natasha arched an eyebrow at Steve. “How’s that going, by the way?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s... going.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That means he isn’t researching still. I’m proud of you, Cap. Using SHIELD’s money for your own gain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not using it for my own gain, Clint. I just...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just what?” Natasha asked. “We aren’t going to tell anyone. If anyone here deserves some time to catch up at their own pace, it’s you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve looked between the two of them before putting his cards face-up on the table. “I think I need to ask you something... Or talk about something. I don’t know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Natasha put her cards down as well. “We’re listening. Whatever you need, Captain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let out a breath as Clint leaned forward to put the cards away. “Considering what I want to talk to you about, maybe you should call me by my actual name. I know it’s supposed to be this big secret, but--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But we’re friends now.” Clint looked between them. “Right? We’re friends?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve relaxed and gave Clint a smile. “Yes, we’re friends. Please, call me Steve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Natasha reached for his hand and squeezed it. “Nice to meet you, Steve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It feels better not hiding who I am.” Steve returned the squeeze. “So I never made it to the museum inside San Junipero. For some reason, I always started out at Tuckers and got sidetracked from there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neither Natasha or Clint had ever been inside of San Junipero, but they learned everything about it once Steve was given access. At least they would know what he was talking about or places he referenced -- maps were readily available of the city in any decade currently rendered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I... met someone. I was in the 80s, playing a video game, and he just...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not that I care,” Clint interrupted, “but he? Just clarifying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve nodded. “That’s right. I was embarrassed and ran once I realized he was interested, but then we just kept seeing each other. Eventually we even planned </span>
  <em>
    <span>when</span>
  </em>
  <span> we would see each other and I’m pretty sure we’re dating.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please tell me he isn’t a Resident.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, he’s a Tourist like me.” Steve leaned back, rubbing at his chin. “He just... So whenever I see him, he wears the oddest outfits. Like he had a full choice of fashion from the decade and picked the one that was the strangest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now I wish you had pictures,” Natasha said with a smile. “Tell me his worst.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve scoffed. “That’s clearly between his 60s bathing suit and what he wore yesterday. We were in the 40s and he showed up in a crochet vest with, I don’t know, math equations all over it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Math? Oh, so he’s a nerd.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Natasha waved Clint off. “Are you sure that’s what it was? Stuff like that didn’t get popular until the 90s.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was a repeated string of numbers. What else could it be?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were in the 40s?” Natasha asked. Once Steve nodded, she took out her phone. “While in the Red Room, we didn’t just learn about current techniques to kill someone and I remember something... Ah, yes.” She slid the phone across the table to Steve. “That was his phone number, not just a random string of numbers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But...” Steve picked up the phone and quickly looked over the article. “That is the stupidest...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since it didn’t happen until the late 40s, I see why you didn’t understand the clue.” Natasha plucked her phone back out of Steve’s fingers. “Do you remember the number at all?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course he remembered it -- Steve’s enhanced brain wouldn’t let him forget anything. But he knew if he focused too much on the fact that he had Tony’s actual phone number, he might panic. Panic wasn’t good, he knew that wouldn’t be good, but he was maybe panicking just a bit now. Quietly as to not alert the two spies at the table with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two spies who were both staring at him and knew he was panicking probably. Steve let out a sigh, folding his arms together as he leaned on the table. “He has asked me to meet him outside San Junipero.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You told him no because of...” Natasha motioned to the room they were in. Steve knew she meant SHIELD and all that came with it, so he shrugged. She leaned forward to grasp his forearm. “Do you like this man?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Screw like. Do you love him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve blushed because yes, he did love Tony. He knew without a doubt that he loved the other man and he could see some kind of future with him. Not just falling asleep together after a night of sex, but waking up together with breakfast and quiet afternoons being lazy around a house. Vacations to an actual beach and real dates in a non-virtual world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But would Tony appreciate the secrecy that automatically came with who Steve was? He wasn’t sure he could just stop being Captain America and Tony would need to have so many secrets because of it. How could he ask anyone to do that for him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have many trips left,” Natasha said, voice quiet. “How can we help you figure this out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s obvious I have to tell him,” Steve mumbled. “He’s going to hate me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t know that,” Clint insisted. “I know New York has a few cafes that are meet-up friendly for people who meet in San Junipero. Hold on, let me find that...” He stood and went to the next table where they had piled a few magazines. “It’s in here... got it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They have the cafes listed for the country,” Natasha explained as Clint all but bounced back into his chair. “It’s a good idea if you want to see him without giving anything away...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a good idea, Steve had to admit to that. He opened the magazine and flipped through it as Clint continued about how the cafes got set up and that there was probably a new one opening somewhere closer. But Steve never got to the article about the cafes. He didn’t even make it halfway through the magazine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Staring up at him, with the same grin Steve dreamed about, was Tony. Shaking fingers traced a bit over the familiar beard -- and then he saw the name. He sucked in a breath and jerked his head up, staring at Natasha with wide eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?” she asked, leaning over to see what he had been looking at. “Steve?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m dating Tony Stark,” he managed to get out. “This... this is him. This is who I’ve been seeing in San Junipero.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint swore and took the magazine back so he could look at it. “You sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>San Junipero worked in a way that you could look however you wanted, sure, but it had to still be </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>. If Steve wanted, he could go in as he was at eighteen and barely a hundred pounds wet. Or he could age himself up and San Junipero would calculate how he might possibly look. But it was impossible to go in looking completely like another person. Howard was dead and had no other sons, so that just left Tony.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anthony Stark.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is bad,” he said, pushing his chair back. “I can’t... I have to end this. Out of all the people, I can’t... Why didn’t I see this before?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have refused to even look at anything Stark-image related since you arrived,” Clint said bluntly. “Damn, good score, Cap.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clint, </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clint, yes.” He shut the magazine before tossing it back toward Steve. “So you’re dating a billionaire who supplies our weapons. Steve, this is actually a </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span> thing. He’s already up to his eyes in contracts with his own secrets. Knowing who you are isn’t exactly going to be hard now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I knew his father...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t mention that to him. Stark hates his father,” Natasha said. “Sit down, Steve, it’s okay. Two minutes ago, you were head over heels for the man. Does his last name really change things that much?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve knew it shouldn’t, but there was history there he wasn’t sure what to do with. “Tasha, I...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gripped his arm and jerked him to sit back down. “Do you still love him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The answer was ‘yes’ and Steve knew it would probably always be yes. But would Tony’s answer even come close to that? The media portrayed him as some sort of playboy, that much Steve knew. But he had also never strayed while they were together in San Junipero. Unless Tony was sneaking in extra sessions, he hadn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m assuming you have another date set up for next time you go in, so go in and see him.” Natasha leaned back, giving Steve a gentle smile. “See if it really matters that the man you’re so in love with is actually Tony Stark. If it doesn’t matter, then call him. I know you memorized that number.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And if you didn’t memorize it, we have it on file.” Clint had the magazine open again. “Damn he’s really hot... Who tops?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve was saved from answering not only by Natasha smacking Clint on the arm, but the door to the room opening. The three of them looked over and even though it wasn’t Tony, Steve felt himself blush. Iron Man was close enough to Tony that all Steve could think about was the smaller man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Violence? From the Widow? Say it isn’t so.” Iron Man put his hands on his hips. “Clint, if you need compensation for such a harsh treatment in the workplace, I know a few people who can help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m more afraid of what she can do to me after I ask for that compensation, so I’ll pass for now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good choice.” Natasha pulled the magazine away from Clint. “We didn’t expect you here. Is everything okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just peachy. Wanted to ask Cap a few history questions.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was at least something to focus on that didn’t involve Tony. “Sure, I’d be happy to help. I mean, as long as it’s something I was alive for.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good thing this is from the war, then.” Iron Man pulled out a chair and then seemed to think better. He pushed the chair back in and crossed his arms. “Boss and I are in a bit of a disagreement about something that happened to a man named Glenn Miller.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve perked up, glad that he at least recognized the subject. “Major Miller, of course! What’s the disagreement?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everybody knows the tragedy of his plane crash in the English Channel during the war, but the boss is insisting that isn’t what happened. He was going on about conspiracy theories and how they’ve got some truth to them. Something with a peace deal and Germany?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve forced a smile -- he had mentioned this to Tony last night during their date. This all but cemented just who his Tony was. “Let me guess. He’s claiming that his plane was shot down because the Germans found out he was headed their way to try and sugar coat a treaty deal written by Eisenhower. Or is it the brothel one?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh... the first one, but now I’m interested in the second.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The second is false, but he liked to claim he visited brothels to sing to the ladies,” Steve said with a smile. “It was a popular rumor among the men abroad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, but the first...?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed. “Unfortunately true. The Howlies were escorting him to the airfield in the back of a truck. We were supposed to be quiet, but there hadn’t been reports of enemies for miles, so the boys encouraged him to take out his trombone and make some music with whatever we could find. I saw the treaty myself, read over it because I was more curious than anything. If he managed to do it, Germany would owe us a hell of a lot today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We never got confirmation that was true,” Natasha added. “Even in SHIELD... I’m tempted to never tell Coulson so he could just constantly wonder about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughed. “Maybe I’ll write him up a copy of the treaty for his birthday. Anyone else you think would want a copy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stark would,” Iron Man said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint perked up. “Yeah? Cap just said he’s always wanted to meet Stark, so maybe he could give that report in person.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve’s eyes widened as Natasha pushed at Clint, making his chair topple over from where he had it balanced on two legs. Iron Man was still staring at Steve and he stood quickly, mumbling out some excuse about training or food or -- honestly, he didn’t even remember. Steve grabbed the magazine on the table and quickly left the room, ignoring Clint’s threats to Natasha and the burn of Iron Man’s stare on his back.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Again, apologies to the Miller family.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. 1910</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They were supposed to meet up outside Tucker’s and decide where to head to on their date, but Steve was too nervous to think of anything but the fact that the man he kissed was Tony Stark. So when Tony had asked if Steve had any ideas, he blurted out “the apartment” before he could really consider any suggestions Tony might have had.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony didn’t seem to mind at all and quickly led them through the familiar streets and to his place. Once there, he gently pushed Steve down on the couch before straddling him. Steve rested his hands on Tony’s hips, holding him steady as they simply sat and stared at one another.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The same face from the magazine (and numerous other pictures Steve had looked up through the week), the same smirk. Just like that, he knew that it could never matter who Tony was outside of San Junipero. His chest ached as he pulled them closer and into a kiss. He wanted all of this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For once, Tony hadn’t dressed in anything odd for the decade -- they both wore a simple pinstripe suit that most men wore. Steve probably should have attempted to handle it with more care than just ripping the buttons off, but he couldn’t care at the moment. Besides, the laugh from Tony just made him want to do it all over again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Should we go to the bedroom?” Tony asked, pressing against Steve. “Not that I mind the couch...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want you here,” Steve murmured, leaning in to run his tongue across Tony’s nipple.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony shivered under his hands. “Do you even realize how hot you are?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve smiled, moving his mouth up to Tony’s neck. “You could always show me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That I have no problem doing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony tangled his hand in Steve’s hair before pulling gently. Steve let his head tilt back and leaned into the pressing kiss Tony gave him. He wrestled the shirt off of Tony as much as he could before letting it hang on the wrist Tony used to hold Steve’s head back. He then moved his hands across Tony’s bare back, fingertips digging into the skin just enough to inch the man closer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony tilted Steve’s head back even further as he broke the kiss. “Is it bad that I like when you manhandle me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve grinned, one hand slipping under Tony’s waistband to kneed his ass. “I gathered that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I kind of like doing this more.” Tony rocked his hips against Steve’s own. “Knowing that you’d just let me do this...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I trust you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony groaned and breathed out a quick, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Steve</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” before kissing him again. Steve moved his hands between them to quickly undo Tony’s pants, pushing them off the man’s hips as soon as he rose up a bit. It was awkward getting them completely off Tony’s legs without breaking either the kiss or the hold on Steve’s hair, but they managed it. Steve’s hands immediately returned to Tony’s ass, squeezing the flesh he found there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This wasn’t how Steve wanted it, though. Last time they did something different and Steve had Tony against the wall, most of their clothes were still on. Now that Tony was naked above him, though, that’s all Steve wanted for himself. He bit gently at Tony’s lip before jerking his head back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Too many clothes,” he breathed out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Agreed.” Tony finally let go of Steve’s hair so he could reach between them and pull at Steve’s shirt. “The faster you get naked, the faster I get what I want.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“God, I lo-- yes, please.” Steve shut his eyes, hoping Tony didn’t notice his almost-slip. It didn’t seem like he did as Tony pushed both Steve’s shirt and jacket off his shoulders.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve leaned into him, running his tongue along Tony’s neck as the other man tossed his clothes somewhere. Being this close, skin-to-skin, always felt right. He never wanted to stop touching him, kissing him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Loving</span>
  </em>
  <span> him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe it was time to bite the bullet and meet Tony outside the simulation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pants,” Tony murmured, pulling Steve back into the moment. “Lift your hips.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve did so, letting Tony tug the rest of the clothes off. With both of them finally fully naked, Steve pulled Tony back in for a kiss. Tony moved a hand back into Steve’s hair, the other wrapping around his erection between them. Steve couldn’t help but moan into Tony’s mouth, hips shifting against the hand to start getting friction.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve felt something touch his leg and he reached over with one hand, smiling into the kiss as he recognized a bottle of lube. Thank you, San Junipero. He popped open the top to squeeze some onto his other hand before tossing it to the side so he could focus just on preparing Tony.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony broke the kiss to lean his head on Steve’s shoulder, hips pressing into the fingers Steve teased him with. “Thought I was supposed to be showing you something...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you want to take over?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” Tony nipped at Steve’s neck. “Once you’re done, I’ll take over.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve pressed a finger inside him, grinning as Tony’s breath hitched. “Come back and kiss me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony did and Steve let himself get lost in it as he continued to work his fingers into Tony, stretching him. He barely noticed when Tony grabbed the lube to rub it over his erection -- too focused on making sure the man above him was ready. Ultimately, Tony took things into his own hands and he shifted his body to position himself and guide Steve into him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve tightened his hands on Tony’s hips, pressing into him slowly. It didn’t take long, though, for Tony to be ready and he broke the kiss, hand tightening in Steve’s hair while his other hand reached back to grip the couch. When Steve started to move, he shook his head, letting out a small laugh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My turn,” he murmured. “Stay still.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You do realize how hard that is, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony grinned. “I believe in you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve couldn’t find anything to say to that, so he kept silent as Tony raised himself just enough before pressing back down. His smile grew as Steve’s hand ran down his leg, squeezing his calf just a bit, but that was the last somewhat calm moment between them. With a murmured </span>
  <em>
    <span>hang on</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Tony closed his eyes and took his pleasure -- not that Steve minded at all. He bit his lip, forcing himself not to move even as Tony moved faster against him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t long before Steve couldn’t follow the ‘stay still’ request. With his hands firmly on Tony’s hips, he thrust up into him, pulling a sharp gasp from Tony. Their movements weren’t as smooth as before, but Steve didn’t care -- having Tony above him, face full of nothing but pleasure, was the best thing Steve could have wanted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wanted it outside of San Junipero.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sudden </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> was enough for Steve to shudder through his release, hips pressed as tightly against Tony as he could. It was only after his body relaxed that he opened his eyes to see his stomach covered in Tony’s own release. The man himself, legs shaking, still sat on him, hands resting on Steve’s shoulders and a smile on his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, you,” Steve said, loosening his hands so they didn’t grip Tony as tightly. “I could do that again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You and me both.” Tony ran his hand gently through Steve’s hair, smoothing it out after he had gripped it so tightly. “I was going to suggest the art museum here since it’s multi-decade, but this worked, too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Next time,” Steve promised, letting his fingers trace over Tony’s bare back. “We’ll do that next time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Still counts as my date.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He laughed before leaning in for a quick kiss. “I can allow that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm...” Tony cupped Steve’s cheek before frowning a bit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You okay?” Steve asked, trying to sit up a bit more. Tony had never frowned after sex and the sudden change worried him. “Tony?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead of answering, Tony moved his hand to cover Steve’s eyes, thumb resting right n the tip of his nose. Steve let him for a moment before his nerves couldn’t take it and he tried to shift his face away; Tony’s hand moved with him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tony, what’s going on?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony removed his hand and Steve couldn’t figure out the expression on the man’s face. He reached out to take Tony’s hand, anxiety crawling up his spine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tony, w--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have to go,” Tony interrupted, and then he was gone, leaving Steve to sit naked on the couch, wondering what had just happened.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. 1980</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5DNZQUcRbPFDKysXY6Eyy3?si=u5-Yq67KTrGA0JB8uVLoGw">Spotify Playlist</a> -- Superhusbands!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The last time Steve had seen Tony in San Junipero, he had three sessions left before SHIELD cut him off. And since Tony had disappeared before they could figure out when to meet next, Steve had to guess. As they had yet to explore 1930, that was the first choice he went with despite how he really didn’t want to re-experience the Great Depression.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was the wrong choice, if Tony had even come to San Junipero at all. That left two sessions left to guess and hope it was right. Clint told him to just call Tony in the real world, but Steve wasn’t too sure how that phone call or meeting would go. He had, after all, still refused to meet in person the last time Tony asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wanted nothing more than to go to Stark Tower, walk through the door, and pin Tony against some kind of wall. He wanted to show the billionaire just how much he had come to care for him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Love</span>
  </em>
  <span> him. Steve wanted so much that he was afraid to take it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next time he was able to head into San Junipero, Steve went back to 1910 as they hadn’t had much chance to do anything but get to Tony’s apartment and fall onto the couch. He went back to the apartment this time and while he was able to get inside, Tony wasn’t there. Since he wasn’t sure if Tony would get any note Steve left, he logged out and let himself panic just a little.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve had one more shot before he was forced to do something in the real world. Clint had at least stopped saying anything, but now Natasha left random articles about Tony lying around whenever they met up. He let them do as they wanted, not wanting to tell them no in case it actually worked and he got the courage to do something.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On his last day in San Junipero, Steve took a moment to look over the decade choices in front of him. He could go back to the 90s or the 40s, where they had their dates. Or the 60s when things got serious. Maybe the 20s when Tony took him dancing...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve chose the 80s, figuring he at least could close out his journey from where he started. A simple pair of white-washed jeans and black t-shirt seemed safe enough, especially if he paired it with an open, red button-down. After rejecting the mullet-look, he turned and opened the door that would lead him into the city.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At least it wasn’t raining this time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ignoring Tucker’s, Steve stuffed his hands in his pockets and made his way down the lively streets. He stopped to watch a street hip-hop group dance for a bit before moving on to someone painting a mural on the side of a building. Not wanting to get too lost in his thoughts, Steve didn’t stay long to watch the mural come to life and he soon continued down to where Clint mentioned the museum was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had yet to walk inside of one despite being told that’s what he was here for. Even now, Steve could do nothing but stand outside the impressive-looking building and watch as Residents and Tourists alike came in and out. At some point, a group of kids led by a few guides came out and started discussing different exhibits they saw.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve knew he wasn’t going to go inside. The more he stood there, staring at it, the more he just wanted to get out and ignore his insecurity and call Tony. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>missed</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tony, more than he ever expected to. All he could think about was having the man next to him, giving colorful commentary about whatever they would see inside. He wanted to not only fall asleep next to him, but wake up as well. He wanted to cook breakfast and laugh over movies he hadn’t seen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve just wanted Tony.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Decision made, Steve turned so he could head back to Tucker’s for one last drink before he logged out. He stopped before he could get too far as standing there, a few feet behind him, was Tony. Dressed in a casual navy suit, sunglasses perched on his nose so Steve couldn’t read his expression, stood the man Steve desperately wanted to see.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tony...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony didn’t move even as Steve stepped closer to him. “Long time, no see.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Steve said, hesitating before reaching a hand up to cup Tony’s cheek. “You disappeared so fast last time, we didn’t plan a meeting point and...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I realized something and I... I had to go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve let his hand drop, his chest tightening. “Was it something I said? Something I did?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony shrugged. “Kind of has to do with who we are, actually.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tony, I don’t care about that. Who you are, who I am... it doesn’t matter. I--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop.” Tony held up a hand, taking a step back to put space between them. “You say that now, but you don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve known since I took you to get a milkshake.” Steve took Tony’s hand, bringing it down between them. “I’ve known and I don’t care. I thought I did, I thought it mattered who we were outside of here, but it </span>
  <em>
    <span>doesn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony jerked his hand back. “You can’t--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tony Stark, I don’t want anything more than to meet you outside of San Junipero. Not for your fame or your money because I have plenty of both. Not for what you can do for me career wise and not for any other reason besides the fact that I am stupidly, sincerely, and probably irresponsibly in love with you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony stared at him, though with the glasses Steve couldn’t figure out what he might be thinking. So he shifted closer to cup Tony’s cheeks, letting his thumbs brush across them gently. He wanted to kiss him, but wasn’t sure if that was welcome at the moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please say something,” he said instead, voice soft. “Tony, I... </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony looked down between them. “You can’t just lay that on a man and expect him to function after, Steve.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve tried a small smile. “I can say it again if you need further reflection on what I said.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Probably wouldn’t help.” Tony took in a breath, letting it out slowly. “I never expected...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Neither did I.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony looked up at Steve over the frames of the glasses. “You really are ridiculously earnest like they said. How are you even real?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m pretty sure you know exactly how I’m real.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony huffed out a laugh and stepped closer, resting his hands on Steve’s hips. “First rule of dating me is never bring him up. Maybe one day I’ll explain why.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh?” Steve arched an eyebrow. “So we’re dating now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are absolutely ridiculous.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that a yes?” Steve leaned closer, their lips inches apart.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s a hell yes.” Tony closed the distance, kissing him without care in front of the San Junipero museum. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve slid a hand into Tony’s hair as the kiss continued, wanting to memorize everything about this moment. No matter what happened, he had Tony. He had found him again and knew now that he could find him outside of the city without any kind of anxiety plaguing him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thought that they could be doing this for real instead of virtually made Steve pull back. “I want to meet you outside of here,” he said. Unable to help himself, he leaned in to pepper kisses over Tony’s face. “I want to take you on a real date and maybe even go back to a real bed with you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony’s breath hitched and his hands tightened on Steve’s hips. “Promises, promises.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I always keep my promises.” Steve nipped a bit behind Tony’s ear. “What do you say? Are you ready to meet the real me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony pulled back and lowered his glasses just enough so their eyes could meet. “Steve, I don’t care who you think the real you is because I know I’ve already met him. And I think I love him, too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve felt as if his heart could burst at any time in his chest. He laughed, too happy to keep his feelings to just a smile. Before Tony could protest, he picked the smaller man up and spun them around a few times before setting him down again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Today,” Steve said, cupping Tony’s cheeks again. “Let’s meet today. It’s still early, right? Anywhere, you name it, and I’ll be there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know just the place,” Tony said before pulling Steve back in for a kiss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even if it were halfway across the country, Steve would find his way to Tony. Every time.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Present Day - Epilogue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is it, everyone. Hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Steve stared up at the sign, hoping that he had made the right choice. It was his first time in Hoboken; even after the serum, he didn’t stray that far away from wherever he considered home. Brooklyn, the battlefield, and then SHIELD -- maybe soon in Manhattan at Tony’s tower if the man would truly have him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the door of the Johnny Rockets and stepped inside. He didn’t recognize the upbeat song playing, but he did recognize the figure of a man in a corner booth. Bent over his phone to probably try and hide, Tony looked nervous as he waited. At that moment, Steve wanted nothing more than to kiss him. Maybe it would take both their nerves away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stopped a few feet away from the booth, his feet scuffing a bit on the floor. Thankfully the slight noise caught Tony’s attention and he looked up. They stared at one another for what seemed like an eternity before a waitress came up behind Steve and cleared her throat. Flustered, Steve quickly took a seat across from Tony, mumbling out an apology.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Chocolate milkshake, two straws," she said before putting the tall glass in the middle of the table. "If you boys need anything else, just wave your hand and I'll see you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Thanks, Lydia," Tony said, pushing his phone to the side. "You're the best."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She gave Tony a wink and left them alone, milkshake between them. Steve couldn't help but smile at it. Neither of them reached for the glass; Steve couldn't take his eyes off of Tony to really care that it was there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You came," Tony said eventually. Hesitantly, he slid a hand across the table, palm up and waiting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve couldn't just let it sit there untouched. He reached over to take Tony's hand, fingers brushing lightly across his palm first. "Of course I came. I promised."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I wasn't sure you'd be willing to do this in public."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I may not know a lot about this new century, but I know enough. We aren't doing anything wrong." Steve looked at the milkshake. "Think this is better than in San Junipero?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony leaned forward toward the closest straw. "Let's see..."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve thought about leaning toward his own straw, but the milkshake wasn't what he wanted. He pushed it further away from them at the last moment, leaning forward to kiss Tony across the booth. Tony's hand tightened, returning the kiss easily. This kiss, his first in this century outside of a virtually created world, was more than he could have asked for. Steve's hand went into Tony's hair to hold him close. Even when they parted, he kept forward, hovering over the table as he watched Tony.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That was better than chocolate," Tony murmured, a smile spreading across his face. "I've wanted to do that for weeks."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm sorry for taking so long to get here." Steve leaned back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're here now. It's okay."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm here now," Steve agreed. "You do realize Fury--"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Screw Fury."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve laughed. "He isn't going to be happy with me. I basically ignored his orders and used San Junipero for a different kind of personal gain."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"A better personal gain." Tony smirked. "The best kind of personal gain."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I doubt a date was what Fury had in mind." Steve squeezed Tony's hand before pulling the milkshake closer again. "Let’s finish this. Maybe take a walk?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony arched an eyebrow. “You’re not about to reveal you’re actually a sleeper assassin, are you? Leading me to my death.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “I’d be the worst assassin ever. You did plaster your phone number all over a sweater for me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you never did call.” Tony wrapped his lips around the straw -- Steve could easily imagine Tony wrapping those lips around something else and he shook his head as Tony leaned back again to say, “Nice and thick.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He groaned, leaning his head back against the booth. “You’re doing this on purpose,” Steve accused.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve looked back at Tony to give him some kind of smart ass response, but the words died on his lips as he caught sight of the smirk. He let out a snort, curling his arm on the table as he leaned toward the milkshake. Eyes never leaving Tony’s own, he slowly took his straw into his mouth, sucking on the sweet drink between them. Tony’s eyes widened and he shifted just slightly on the bench. He then narrowed his eyes and pulled his hand back just so he could cross his arms over his chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Touche. Is it too forward of me to ask you back to my place?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve pulled away from the milkshake, an easy smile on his face. “Is it too forward of me to accept?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony watched him for a long moment (almost long enough for Steve to wonder if he had teased too far) when he let out a sigh and reached his hand across the table again. Steve took the hand again, trying not to let his anxiety show too much.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s... something else I need to tell you, Steve.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatever it is, I’m sure it isn’t that bad.” He tried a smile, thumb stroking across the back of Tony’s hand. “Just tell me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony’s mouth became like a fish for a while -- opening and closing without a noise. Finally, he squared his shoulders and lifted his chin, looking as if he were prepared for a battle more than a conversation. Steve tried not to tense up, scenarios playing in his head of Tony not liking him or needing more than him. Tony being too injured to do anything outside of San Junipero. Tony </span>
  <em>
    <span>only</span>
  </em>
  <span> enjoying their relationship in San Junipero.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony retiring to San Junipero within the next few days.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am Iron Man,” Tony said instead, shocking Steve into silence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The confession rang in his head. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I am Iron Man</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It made sense, in a weird way. The way Iron Man could easily tell them about Stark’s new toys. How they tended to avoid each other. Part of Steve wanted to be angry, but the more he thought about it, the more he honestly didn’t care. He should have seen it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony attempted to pull his hand back and it brought Steve out of his thoughts. He gripped tighter to Tony’s hand before pulling it up and kissing the back of it gently. He didn’t care if Tony had a third secret identity -- he would love him all the same.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Does that mean I can flirt with you during down times in the field?” he asked instead, thinking of Clint and Natasha -- they didn’t know, yet. “Could be... fun.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony blinked at him. “You’re serious?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Never been more serious before in my life. Except for wanting to go back to your place right now...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Without a word, Tony all but launched himself across the table to kiss him, the milkshake spilling between them. Steve didn’t care about the mess, too busy letting both hands grip Tony’s face as he pressed into the kiss. San Junipero could keep its perfectly controlled simulations of a city -- this, everything he had in the real world, was all Steve needed.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you again to my awesome beta! Art will be coming soon as well. :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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